


(I Don't Give a Damn 'Bout My) Bad Reputation

by JaggedCliffs



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, Kid Fic, Loki's Kids, Minor Character Death, original characters who aren't very original because they're partially from the comics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-04
Updated: 2013-07-26
Packaged: 2017-12-17 16:47:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 30,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/869772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaggedCliffs/pseuds/JaggedCliffs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hildy, daughter of Volstagg and Hildegund, and her younger siblings did not expect to meet Prince Loki when they snuck out to the kitchens at night. Nor did they expect Loki to get them out of trouble, instead of turning them in. And they certainly didn't expect him to help with any mischief they managed to get themselves into (neither did Loki, for that matter).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A girl can do what she wants to do

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if this has a plot so don't expect a real one. Title and chapter names are from the song Bad Reputation by Joan Jett because I'm lazy and saving you from reading whatever awful titles I come up with. Playing fast and loose with Norse mythology, the comic-verse, and stuff I made up for background details, all the while set in the movie verse. So don't expect accurate mythology 'cause Stan Lee and Jack Kirby didn't care all that much when they wrote the comics.

Next time she snuck out, Hildy decided, her brothers would _not_ be coming with her. They couldn't keep silent when they encountered just the slightest bit of trouble, and normally she was the loudest of the lot. At least Gudrun knew how to talk in a whisper, even if she was afraid of the dark and wanted to go back. Actually next time, Hildy decided, she would just go alone.

“I want to go back to bed. I don't want to get caught and I don't want to get in trouble.” As if listening to Hildy's thoughts, Gudrun started whining. Quietly, thank the Norns. “Hildy, I'm scared.” Her younger sister tugged on Hildy's elbow and looked up at her with frightened eyes.

Hildy sighed. “We're _trying_ to get back to bed. And we won't be caught, as long as those two stop making such a racket,” she hissed and glared at her brothers.

They glared right back. “We _aren't_ making a racket,” Gunnar retorted, and Hildy winced at how loud his voice was. “But we _told_ you we should've turned right instead of left at the entrance to the Grand West Wing. And now we 're lost and it's _your_ fault.” Gunnar pointed an accusing finger at Hildy while Hrolf nodded sagely at his side. As if Hrolf hadn't agreed with Hildy at first. _The traitor._

“That wasn't where we got lost. We took the wrong passageway just outside the Hall of the Vanir because _you_ said it was a shortcut,” Hildy replied, but in a very anger whisper to demonstrate that one could complain without waking up the whole palace.

If she was honest with herself (which she didn't really want to be, since that would mean she would be partly to blame), this whole debacle could have been avoided if the four of them hadn't decided to stop at the Mead Hall as well as the kitchens. Originally, they were just going to snag some late night sweets. But Hrolf just _had_ to mention that he wanted to see the Mead Hall, because they were Not Allowed Inside yet. Hrolf had earlier overheard Alaric talking about a way into the rafters above the hall. And _then_ Hildy and Gunnar were curious too, and Gudrun refused to stay behind because she wanted to pick out her sweets from the kitchen and if she was left behind she'd tell Mother. So they raided the kitchen, which was a success. Unfortunately, they were then stuck carrying one jar each through the palace's corridors, a couple stairways, and a passage hidden behind curtains until they found their way up into the hall's ceiling. Upon which they discovered that the hall was nearly empty because they had taken so long finding the place while hauling around their stolen goods. Now they had thoroughly lost their way back to Father's quarters, their arms were tired, and Gudrun couldn't carry her jar anymore so the three of them had to take turns holding it (currently Hrolf's job). To make matters worse, they discovered that guards were patrolling whichever area of the palace they found themselves in. The had to hide in a little hidden passageway, just around the corner and down the hall from a patrol.

They really should've visited the Mead Hall first. It was too late now though, and Hildy had to get her siblings back before Mother found them out of bed. “We need to turn around,” she suggested before her siblings started arguing again. “I think I recognized that statue by that last staircase.”

“If you're talking about the golden statue with the winged helmet and broadsword,” a quiet voice drawled from behind the siblings, “you should know that there are five of the same statue throughout the palace, and the one by the staircase is nowhere near your rooms.”

The four of them jumped, Gudrun letting out a little sound that would have turned into a surprised shriek if Hildy hadn't clapped a hand over her mouth, and spun around to face the owner of the voice. Leaning indolently against the wall and smiling slightly, was Prince Loki. Hildy gulped.

Like Father's other friends, Loki sometimes came by and entertained her and her siblings. He could make gold sparks shoot out of his hands and made butterflies with shimmering wings that landed on her face and had just enough substance to tickle her nose. But those entertained children, and Hildy was too old to be interested by tricks anymore. Gudrun could still be enthralled by fluffy little animals that crawled up to her then dissolved into a golden mist when she touched them. But like Alaric and Einar, Hildy preferred learning how to throw solid punch from Thor (and she would never admit that liked the miniature drakes, shining every colour of the Bifrost, that glided around her head so she would get dizzy trying to keep track of the illusions).

Only this was no sociable visit. They were caught in the dead of night out of bed, and Hildy couldn't really think of any good excuses.

Ignoring their surprised reactions, Loki moved away from the wall and crouched down to their height. “I would ask what the four of you were doing out of bed, but it seems obvious from your stolen goods.” Loki inclined his head at Gunnar's jar, who then guiltily tried to hide it behind his back. “A better question would be how exactly you managed to end up in this wing of the palace. However-” he continued when Hildy opened her mouth while her mind scrambled for an explanation, “the _best_ question would be how you intend to return to your quarters without getting caught.”

The four of them exchanged confused glances. “But you already caught us,” Gudrun said, removing Hildy's forgotten hand from her mouth. Then her eyes filled with tears. “Oh please don't get us in trouble, Prince Loki, please, it won't happen again and it was their fault anyway,” Gudrun pleaded and waved her hand in her older siblings' direction.

“Our fault! If you hadn't come along we wouldn't of had to go so slow,” Gunnar said indignantly. “Stop being so stupid.”

“Don't call her stupid,” Hildy snapped when Gudrun's face crumpled further. “You were the one that had your passageways mixed up.”

“Well at least I know left from right.”

“I know my directions perfectly. You couldn't find your way out of a sack.”

“Neither of you have any sense of direction, 'cause you both got us lost!”

“If you four are always this loud, it's wonder you weren't caught beforehand,” Loki interjected with a roll of his eyes before anyone could respond to Hrolf. Although instead of looking exasperated, the prince seemed amused. “Luckily, the guards just outside this corridor are not paying attention to disobedient children. So long as said children return to bed soon.”

“Did you magic the guards?” Gudrun asked, rubbing her wet eyes.

“It doesn't matter if the guards are magicked or not!” Hildy stomped her foot. “We can't go to bed because we're lost. And it doesn't matter if we're lost because _you_ ,” she stabbed a finger at Loki, “are going to get us in trouble with Mother and then she'll make us stay inside and do chores.” With a huff, Hildy crossed her arms and glared up at Loki. Just because he caught them out of bed didn't mean she had to feel guilty. Even if she did, a bit.

However, Loki only raised an eyebrow. In fact, he looked like he was trying to keep himself from laughing. “Actually, I 'magicked' the corridor. And you will not get in trouble, nor still be lost, if you follow this passage straight until you hit the weaving room, then take the west stairs half-way up and duck behind the silver statue, where there should be a small passageway. Take the first left, then the stairs, and you should be close to your rooms.”

Hildy felt her mouth fall open as Loki stood up. “Wait,” she said, gathering her wits as Loki started to turn away. “Could you repeat that?”

With a grin, Loki reiterated his instructions. “Also,” the prince added nonchalantly, “there is a tunnel underneath the mural in the West Gardens that leads to a crawl space just above the ice closet in the kitchens. It's perfect for hiding, and too small for adults to enter.”

Exchanging a glance with her siblings, Hildy saw that they were similarly bewildered but delighted. But she still had more questions before Loki slipped away. “How do you know how to get back? And about the kitchen? Are you gonna tell Mother about us?”

Loki smirked. “Thor and I used to love sneaking into the kitchens, until we ended up arguing over spoils a bit too loudly on our way back to our rooms while within earshot of our mother. And we stumbled upon that little tunnel quite by accident. I will have to tell you about it sometime.” Then he sauntered off down the corridor, disappearing from sight in the darkness.

Hildy looked around at her astounded brothers and sister. Then, swallowing her confusion, started to march forward, tugging Gudrun along behind her.

“Hey, where are you going?” asked Gunnar.

“Straight until I reach the weaving room. I'm not gonna stay out and get caught,” Hildy replied, Gudrun falling into step beside her. At least Gudrun had some sense, and she was the youngest.

“But what if he's lying?” Hrolf protested.

_That_ made Hildy hesitate. Just like everyone knew that Loki did magic, they also knew that he was a liar. But why would he lie to _them_? About something like getting back to bed? “Well, it's better than sticking around in the dark and getting in trouble,” Hildy said and continued on. Either Loki lied and they were going to get caught, which would happen anyway if they stood there, or he was telling the truth and they could all get to bed safely.

“But everyone needs to be quiet.” Gudrun whispered, then turned back to her brothers, put a finger to her lips and made a shushing noise. Hildy smiled at her little sister's orders, especially since her brothers actually listened and started talking in murmurs to each other.

Evidently they decided that Hildy was right (and of course Hildy was right, she was the oldest of the group, if not the oldest over all, and therefore was supposed to know best), because she heard them quietly jogging to catch up. Gunnar managed to slip in beside Gudrun in the narrow corridor while Hrolf had to lag behind.

After the emerging from the stairs that led from the passage behind the statue, Hildy let out a relieved breath when she saw that they were near their residential quarters. She tugged a sleepy and stumbling Gudrun into the hallway, Hrolf and Gunnar helping to support her. Motioning her siblings onward, Hildy directed them to their rooms at the far end of the hall. With Gunnar's help, she quietly opened the door and did a quick check for Mother. The torches were still unlit, so no one must have noticed their absence. The four of them crept to their bedroom, stashing the remains of their stolen goods under Hildy's bed (because she was, of course, the most responsible one), and crawled underneath their covers.

It was only after she was starting to nod off, a satisfied feeling in her gut from a successful outing, that several things occur to her. Loki never really answered all her questions. And what was Loki doing in that corridor, in a guarded part of the palace?


	2. An' I don't have to please no one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hildy plans another night out to the kitchens with her siblings, but runs into some complications. Both before and after they steal their late night snacks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of the children's names, except for Altrea (which I partially stole from a Doctor Who comic), are names of Volstagg's children. Einar is 13, and Arngrim and Altrea are both 12.

It was a few weeks before Hildy planned another trip out to the kitchens. She had to catch up on sleep, without Mother noticing that four of her children were more tired than usual. And since Loki's advice on returning to their rooms had been accurate, neither Hildy nor her siblings had any objections to checking out the tunnel to the crawl space. It was a little musty (Hildy would have to clean off her trousers when she got back), but otherwise it worked marvellously. They came back laden with sweetbreads and honeyed biscuits, and Gudrun could actually help out this time.

Except when they arrived back at their rooms, they discovered Einar and the twins, Arngrim and Altrea, waiting up for them. In a quick, whispered argument, Hildy brokered and agreement with Einar, stating that next time they decided to sneak out, all seven of them would go.

Though Hildy knew there was a better chance they'd caught with a larger group, the increased chances of discovery didn't bother her very much. What she did mind was sharing the pathways and secrets that herself, Gunnar, Hrolf, and Gudrun had found. Or been told about. It didn't seem so secret and special if lots of her siblings knew about it. Not to mention that she would no longer be the oldest in the group, and therefore wouldn't have as much authority.

Which was why it took another month for the next after-dark outing to be arranged. And since Einar had heard a whole bunch of stories about the Mead Hall from the older warrior trainees, he wanted to visit the rafters above the hall. Soon after which, the group got lost. Again.

Hildy fumed as they backtracked from yet another locked set of doors. They had somehow gotten lost in a completely different part of the palace from last time, though Altrea was pretty sure they were in the lower levels. “Well that doesn't help us if we can't find any stairs,” she grumbled. The palace looked different at night. Places that looked familiar in the day seemed to distort in the shadows. The palace was not only lit with torches, half of which were snuffed out at night, but also a system of diffused sunlight that radiated from certain parts of the walls and ceiling, though only during the daytime.

“Maybe we would find some if you didn't insist on leading us in the wrong direction,” Einar sniped.

Hildy rounded on him, fists clenched. “I can't lead us in any wrong directions since _you_ keep telling us where to go!” Einar had decided that since he was the oldest, he knew the palace better and should lead. Hildy had argued, but despite her younger siblings' support, Einar still ending up making most of the decisions.

Pulling himself up to his full height (which was nearly half a foot taller than Hildy), Einar scowled. “And you keep ignoring what I say and-”

“Why is it that you children have yet to be discovered if you are always _shouting_.” An exasperated voice interrupted. All seven of them froze. Hildy heard several gasps and at least one squeal (which she though came from Arngrim) as they spun around to see a very relaxed looking Loki. He was lounging against the wall beside the doors they had just left.

Out of the corner of her eye, Hildy saw Einar pale and swallow nervously. “P-prince Loki, I was um, we were just...”

As much fun as it would be to watch Einar squirm after getting them lost in the first place (because Hildy had _known_ where she was going this time, she was sure of it), she was tired and Gudrun looked like she was about to fall asleep on the floor. Hildy didn't feel like wasting time. “How do we get back,” she demanded, stepping forward so she was the closest to Loki.

The prince seemed just as amused as before. “Straight to the point, I see. How do you know I won't inform Volstagg of your late night adventures this time?”

Hildy felt a bit smug as Einar, Arngrim, and Altrea starting gaping at her instead of Loki, but she put aside the feeling to seriously consider the question. “Because...you aren't angry with us? You don't mind us being out at night?”

“Because you like us and you like secret passages?” Gudrun piped up, rubbing a hand over her tired eyes.

The grin on Loki's face brightened just the slightest. “I imagine those are adequate reasons. Down the hall to your left is a door hidden by magic. Press the stone seventh from the bottom and two to the left of the statue, and at the same time press the inscription on the statue's pedestal. The staircase is rather steep, but not overly lengthy. Once you come out the top, turn left and you will find yourselves outside the kitchens you seem so fond of. I do hope you can find your way back from there without further assistance.” He added the last sentence dryly, but the smile on his face didn't fade.

“You mean we've been travelling all this way, and we only ended up below the kitchens?” Gunnar moaned. Hildy felt like complaining with him. All those twists and turns, and all they had to do now was go up?

“I'm afraid so,” Loki replied, though he looked more disinterested than sympathetic. He straightened up from his casual slouch. “Now you had best be on your way-”

“Wait!” Hildy interrupted, before Loki could disappear into the shadows again. “How do you know about the stairs? And the passageways from last time?” To Hildy, Loki's secret passage, or at least this newest one, had rather specific instructions to find. So how could he find them unless he already knew where they were?

Loki hesitated, then his grin slid back into place. “Like you, the kitchens were not the only place I explored. And I managed to discover some rather helpful books on the subject. Mostly by accident. I will have to tell you the story sometime.” With barely a sound, Loki strode off down the hall opposite the one that held the secret passage. Just like last time, the shadows swallowed him up almost immediately (Hildy wasn't sure it that was because of magic or because of the darkness of the palace).

For a moment, everything was quiet. Then Gudrun grabbed onto Hildy's arm while tugging on Gunnar's sleeve. “Let's go, then. I'm tired,” she whined.

Hildy nodded down at Gudrun.“You're right. We should get going.” She held her younger sister's hand and looked over Gudrun's head at Gunnar and Hrolf, their smug expression mirroring her own feelings. Flashing a brief and mocking grin at Einar, Hildy strode down the left hall with her chin held high and her younger siblings in tow. She could almost feel Einar's seething jealousy and embarrassment as she passed him. Maybe if she could show him up in front of a prince every time he became insufferable, Einar would stop trying to boss her around.

Altrea and Arngrim, who had looked more confused than angry, fell into line behind Hrolf. Then came Einar's stomps and scuffling as he reluctantly joined the group. Hildy didn't have to look to know he was pouting.

“What was this _last time_ you mentioned?” she heard Arngrim ask. “What other secret passages?”

“Well,” began Hrolf in an important voice (that was really much too loud a voice for the silent palace), “it all started when we got lost on our way back from the Mead Hall...”

 

By the time the seven of them made it back to their quarters, Hrolf was out of breath and finished with the story, while Arngrim and Altrea were a touch awed. Einar was still jealous.

The kitchens' goods were stored underneath both Hildy's and Einar's beds (because Hildy didn't have enough room under her's and _maybe_ felt the teensiest bit sorry for Einar). And though she was as tired as a stag during a hunt, she felt sleep evading her. She had barely listened to Hrolf's retelling of their adventures, because she was wondering what a certain prince was doing up in the dead of night.


	3. Family Matters 1: I've never been afraid of any deviation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why was Loki up at night, sneaking around in the dark, helping lost children get to bed before their parents found out? He was only minding his own business, planning his own plans, and the children were just a coincidence.

He had only stumbled upon Volstagg's children by accident, really.

Normally Loki didn't mind a drink or two at the Mead Hall, as long as no saw fit to drunkenly snicker over his latest failure in the sparring ring (which was _usually_ only a forfeit, because everyone claimed he must have cheated. Whether he had actually cheated or not was hardly relevant, if no one could figure out how). But tonight he had immeasurably more important engagements than listening to drunkards recount their old glories on the battlefield. So he slipped out of the Mead Hall early in the evening and took shelter in a nearby alcove. After checking for any prying eyes, he brought out an ancient book, one that he'd only heard substantial rumours about after tricking three dwarfs and an elf (actually finding the book hadn't been nearly as exciting). There was a precise passage he was looking for, one he hoped would be found somewhere amongst the faded scribbles. He drew the shadows about himself and continued reading the chapter that had been so rudely interrupted by his over-enthusiastic brother dragging him from his rooms by the lapels.

As the torches grew dimmer and less and less people passed by, Loki's scowl deepened. Long past every sensible person had retired to bed, Loki quietly snapped shut the tome.

The damn book had barely held anything useful. It only briefly mentioned that there were certain regions more open to Yggdrasil's pathways than others, though theoretically a bridge could be opened from anywhere. Information Loki already knew, or had at least guessed at.

This was going to take much longer than he had thought.

But to open a pathway between realms, without the Bifrost, all by himself...Well, creating holes in the same plane of space was one thing. This was something greater.

_(Something Father couldn't help but notice)._

And he would gladly take all the time in the realms to perfect the magic.

He glanced around, and even sent out a mild detection spell as a precaution. The palace was deserted, an excellent time to scout out those areas allegedly more susceptible to Yggdrasil's branches. Best to start small.

However, he had barely gone down three halls, with his magic attuned to the slightest wrinkle or snag in walls of reality, when he heard four sets of feet. Very little feet, accompanied by steadily rising voices.

Children? At this time of night? Slipping into the hidden passage that echoed with rather loud whispers, he placed a silencing charm around its entrances and crept closer to the four shadows.

His interest spiked when he discovered the little ones were not just any children, but four of Volstagg's brood. And judging by their comments, they were also quite lost. Loki thought it was time to solve their problem. Who was he to discourage a bit of misbehaviour?

“If you are talking about the golden statue with the winged helmet,” he began...

 

The second time was no more intentional, either.

He and Thor had only just returned from a little jaunt to Vanaheim, and the two of them adventuring alone had been a lovely change of pace from travelling with Sif and the Warriors Three. Loki had _almost_ felt relaxed, until Thor heard a gryphon and decided it was his solemn duty to bring home its talons.

But as tired as he was, Loki couldn't waste a second. Before leaving he had noticed a minor snag in reality towards the base of the palace. As he let his mind wander one night under the stars, listening to Thor's soft breathing (before those breaths turned into snores), he realized what might be the cause of the weaker barrier between realms: The Vault, or rather all the objects stored within.

While the Vault may have wards against magic, there were still enough powerful artifacts in that room to cause a small tear in space. Even objects which no longer resided in the vault, such as the Tesseract and a few of the Infinity Gems, would have some residual effects.

Slipping past the guards wouldn't be overly difficult, and as a member of the royal family the Destroyer wouldn't bother him. And once he found the spot where the walls were thinnest, where it would take but a push to open a doorway to Yggdrasil, he could put his theories into practice.

His plans had be set on hold, however, if the padding of seven pairs of small feet was anything to go by. Really, how many children ran about the palace at night? Seemingly just Volstagg's little ones, if he discerned their voices correctly. And apparently they were lost once more.

He guessed it was up to him to fix that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pseudo-science/magic, yay! And we return to Hildy next chapter.


	4. An' everyone can say What they want to say

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hildy parent's have their anniversary in the evening. Which means babysitters for the rest of the night, but not the ones Hildy was expecting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, last night I read that Thor 2 Prelude comic, and it's really good thing I finished writing this (it just needs editing), otherwise it may have killed my writing spirit. The whole thing just left me angry and disappointed. Luckily, this is fluffiness, except for casual racism against Jotuns. Alaric is the oldest of Volstagg's kids, at around 15 or 16, and Flosi is 14 or 15. Jargsa is the youngest at about 2, and Thakrad is 3 or 4. And I think this sounds so awkward in parts, but I hope the fluff got across anyway.

Hildy came to the conclusion that running around the palace in dark was not conductive to remembering important events. Like her parent's anniversary, for one thing. Which was happening that day.

In her haze of exhaustion the next morning, the unusual level of activity around the household, as Alaric and Flosi rushed around helping Mother and Father, went completely unnoticed (although she did enjoy watching Flosi berate a grumpy Einar into aiding her with a heavy-looking pot of flowers).

It wasn't until Alaric tried rouse her from drowsing off after lunch, earning a sloppy punch to the shoulder along with a groan, that he reminded her under his breath with “Don't be so contrary, Hildy. Not with mother and father leaving tonight.” _That_ snapped Hildy awake. She had forgotten mother and father would be leaving that evening for their 750th anniversary. And Alaric and Flosi, who were both technically old enough to look after everyone, had hastily found previous engagements that could under no circumstance be cancelled. Which meant that Father had to find a supervisor for the evening.

Guiltily, Hildy quickly apologized to Alaric for the punch (though she hadn't really been trying, and as the eldest he probably wasn't hurt anyway), and joined Altrea in straightening Father's axe collection.

As much as she liked her eldest siblings, Flosi and Alaric were not exactly adequate nannies, and if Father was looking for a supervisor for the evening then it would probably be one of his friends. Hopefully someone _much_ more interesting than one of the palace's governesses.

So she put on her best (if sometimes sleepy) behaviour until after Flosi and Alaric made their exits. Then Mother and Father said their farewells, gathered them up for hugs, told them not to stay up late, and went arm in arm to the door. Where they ushered in the two princes, who had apparently been waiting outside the door, before departing with one last wave of farewell.

Well. Hildy hadn't expected the _princes_ to be their nannies for the evening. Usually Father brought in Sif or Fandral, or even Hogun on the odd occasion. But there they were, Price Thor beaming around all nine of them while Prince Loki had a more reserved smile on his face.

“It is wonderful to see you all again!” Thor began, grin seeming to brighten up the room. Hildy couldn't help the smile that grew on her face, despite her surprise, as Thor entered the room fully, Loki trailing behind. “You have all grown so since I saw you last!” Hildy knew the only ones who looked different were Thakrad and Jargsa, being the youngest, but that didn't stop her from standing up just a bit taller.

Speaking of the youngest, Thakrad and Jargsa toddled up to Thor and wrapped themselves around his legs. “Are you our nannies?” asked Thakrad, leading to a round of giggles.

“Aye, for this evening my brother and I will be looking after you.” Thor bent over and pulled Thrakrad up, nestling him in one his arms.

“Though only after Volsatgg caught us stealing a large supply of his favourite mead, and forced us to care for you in reparation.” Loki said, tugging Jargsa off Thor's other leg and lifting her up. “I cannot fathom how we will survive such a punishment.”

To the chorus of gasps and protests, Thor laughed and clapped his free hand on Loki's shoulder. “My brother jests. We volunteered our services when Volstagg informed us of his plans for the night.” Then he hesitated, before looking sidelong at his brother and adding, “Although I may have Volstagg check on his store of mead once he returns.”

Everyone giggled again as Loki just rolled his eyes and strode past Thor into the the dining hall, keeping a firm hold of Jargsa to prevent her from bouncing. “Please Thor, you know I would not be so obvious with my tricks. Now children, before we feast, is there anything you wish to play?”

The question avalanched into Hildy's favourite part of having warriors for “nannies”, which was their inability to say no to any game, no matter how violent it got or how much of a mess they made. Not to mention they could keep up with the games.

First they played Jotun War, with Thor as the Jotun, complete with a blue-skinned and red-eyed glamour courtesy of Loki. As Thor chased them around their quarters, roaring and tickling them when he caught them, Loki sat in the drawing room and entertained Jargsa, who was too young to play. One time when Hildy ducked into the drawing room to hide from the rampaging Thor, she saw Loki with Jargsa on his lap, a thick book held in front of them. “-and this is a map of the tunnels beneath the Monument of Glaðsheimr which are forbidden and must under no circumstance be entered. Which of course means that I have explored them extensively.” He looked up from the book and grinned at Hildy, before turning the page and pointing at something on the paper. “And this is a linnormr, which will violently disembowel any who dare approach it without its consent,” he cooed and ruffled Jargsa's hair. She just laughed and clapped her hands (Jargsa's vocabulary was still limited) as Hildy heard Thor run past in the drawing room, in pursuit of what sounded like Einar and Arngrim. Hildy ducked out of the room, running in the opposite direction from Thor's receding footsteps, missing Loki's further explanation of the deadliness of the linnormr. Hildy decided she would put down Loki's adoring tone of voice to another one of the younger prince's oddities.

Once they were tired from running about, they decided to play King of Asgard. Thor and Loki piled the furniture and cushions in the drawing room and let them scramble and fight their way to the top. This time both the princes sat out, taking care of Jargsa and Thakrad (who was too exhausted to play) and supervising the game. Of course Hildy made it to the top midway through the game and held it until Loki told them it was time for the evening meal. Thor picked her off her well-defend position atop a cushion and congratulated her on her protection of the Kingdom of Asgard's Furniture. Loki remarked that as King, she should take up wearing an eye-patch. The arrival of servants with food spared her from having to ask him exactly what he meant by that.

The meal was much more subdued than most, which Hildy thought might have been the princes' (or at least Loki's) plan in wearing them out before eating. Afterwards the princes gathered them in the drawing room again. Loki made a gesture at the Hildy's conquered Kingdom, waited until the drawing room sorted itself out as furniture flew around the room, then took a seat in the largest chair.

“Would you like to hear a story?” he asked.

Hildy drew herself away from admiring the re-organized room to add to the chorus of “yes”'s from her siblings, though they looked similarly awed by the magic. So Thor sat them down while Loki made another movement with his hands and drew a book out of the air.

“A hundred millennia ago, a weary traveller from beyond the nine realms arrived in Asgard...” Loki began, and suddenly he and the room disappeared in a rush of gold light. All Hildy could see was ancient Asgard and a shadowy figure at the gates of the Bifrost, and she could feel the sharp wind coming off Asgard's waters. She knew it was another one of Loki's illusions, but it looked as if she could reach out and touch the rainbow shards of the bridge and feel it's smooth but warm surface. As Loki continued reading, his voice echoing from all sides rather than scant feet in front of her, the scene changed. His voice and magic drew them into the tale, full of adventure and mystery. Eventually the story came to an end and Loki shut the book with a snap, dissolving the illusion. Hildy jolted at the sudden change. The drawing room almost felt drab and empty in comparison to the magic of the tale.

Apparently not all her siblings felt the same, since Thakrad and Jargsa were nodding off, making pillows out of Thor's legs. “Excuse us, but it is past time these two retired for the night,” Thor said, gently cradling one in each arm and leaving the room with footsteps much quieter than Hildy thought him capable of making.

The second Thor was out of earshot, Loki vanished the book and leaned forward. “I do believe I promised a story earlier. Would you like to collect on that debt?”

It took a moment for Hildy to remember when Loki had promised them a story. As she recalled his parting words from last night, Gunnar piped up, “Actually, you owe us _two_ stories. The one about the tunnel and the one about the statue.”

“Ah yes, although I technically only owe four of you the first story,” Loki amended when Einar, Arngrim, and Altrea looked a bit confused. “But it is not too great a sacrifice to tell the tale to all. And we have time for both before bed-”

“No!” Gudrun interrupted. “Only one tonight. Then you have to come back to tell the other one.” She stuck out her chin stubbornly.

To Hildy's surprise, Loki chuckled at Gudrun's insistence. “It seems there is a natural negotiator amongst you, though one a touch more blunt than most.” He smiled. “Alright, one story tonight, and I'll come back for the second one. Are we at an accord?” He stared at Gudrun, who sealed their agreement with a serious nod of her head.

“Aye,” she replied, relaxing.

“Excellent,” Loki said, then faded from sight as he brought up another illusion. This one looked like a normal corridor in the palace, evening light streaming in the windows. Two young boys ran past, one blonde and dark haired. “Long ago, two brothers were bored and in search of mischief. They ran about the palace, uncaring for any in the way of their pursuits.”

“Only one was planning mischief. The other just wanted to play,” came Thor's voice, cutting in from somewhere behind Hildy. The boys in the illusion froze mid-step.

“Thor, are you telling the story?”

“Nay, though I remember it well enough-”

“But are you are not the narrator, so keep quiet,” Loki snapped. The boys in the illusion started moving again. “As I was saying, the boys, in their quest, ended up in the West Garden...”

Loki continued (with numerous interruptions from Thor), speaking of the boys playing in the garden, eventually settling in the low branches of a tree at its outskirts. They had an argument which led to a fight, which led to the in-story Loki falling off his branch and tumbling into a cleverly concealed hole in the ground. After discovering the hole was actually a tunnel, the two decided to follow it. The tunnel of course ended in the in the kitchens, where, “the boys waited for the opportune moment to snatch a plate of unattended biscuits from the counter. They made it back to their secret hideout before a cook returned, despite the older brother's foolish decision to grab a cake, nearly dropping it in his attempt.”

“I could have carried it if you had helped me-”

“Quiet, Thor. The cake was replaced without incident, and the boys enjoyed their hard won goods in the privacy and safety of the tunnel.” The image showed the brothers side by side, a small section of the tunnel lit by a golden ball of light in the smaller boy's hand, munching on sweet biscuits. “They spoiled the evening meal for themselves, but a diminished appetite did little spoil the joy of their discovery and shared secret. And little to discourage them from revisiting the kitchens together again.” Lingering on contentment on the boys' faces, the picture faded and Hildy was back in the drawing room with her siblings. She caught a grin flash across Loki's face in Thor's direction before he returned his attention to her family. “The end, and time for bed.”

Despite the groans, Hildy only put up a token resistance and Thor helped pull her to her feet. The previous night's adventures had caught up to her, and she felt like curling up on the floor and taking a nap. Her siblings looked the same, rubbing their eyes and yawning. Somehow Thor and Loki managed to get all of them changed and tucked under covers without anyone falling asleep in the interim (Hildy suspected Loki may have used magic, but she was too tired to figure out how).

Cocooned in the warmth and darkness of her blankets, Hildy nearly missed the low voices just barely audible from outside her bedroom as she drifted off to sleep. “Was it wise tell the story of the tunnel, Loki? They may wish to seek it out. Remember how we were punished for sneaking off to the kitchen.”

“I am sure Volstagg and Hildegund are quite capable of keeping their children out of trouble. Besides, that tunnel was filled in nearly 150 years ago. Some lilies grow on top of the entrance now.” The voices trailed off as they moved farther away from Hildy's room, and Hildy' thoughts became too muddled to follow the sounds as she fell asleep.

 

The next time Hildy, Gunnar, Hrolf, and Gudrun decided to enter the kitchens they found a plot of lilies above the entrance to the secret passage. When Hildy reached out to touch the flowers' petals they felt soft and silky and _real_. But when Gudrun drove her fist into the dirt, a gold mist appeared around her arm and the dirt shimmered slightly to reveal the tunnel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to Wikipedia, Glaðsheimr is a realm in Asgard where Odin's hall of Valhalla is located. For the sake of the fic, let's say the monument is one of the gold floaty things or something. Also Wikipedia tells me that linnormr is the Old Norse name for wyverns. And according to my handy-dandy book of Dragonology, wyverns are like dragons except bigger and they only have two legs instead of four; they have wings in place of their front legs.


	5. Family Matters 2: Never said I wanted to improve my station

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor didn't know his brother enjoyed being a babysitter, but the brothers really do work well together.

Thor almost thought his brother was playing at something when Loki nearly leapt at the chance to look after Volstagg's children for the night. Though any unfamiliar with his brother would believe “leapt” to be the wrong word, for Loki maintained a calm exterior. But Thor could sense the eagerness in Loki's eyes and words and movements, as well as in his much too quick answer for Volstagg's request.

And, naturally, Thor heartily agreed to accompany his brother. Thor hadn't had a chance visit with the little ones for months, and Thor wasn't sure if even Loki could handle nine boisterous children on his own.

Thor was glad he agreed, for the children were a delight and between the two of them, Thor and Loki could keep them occupied until they retired for the night. Not to mention Loki looked much happier than Thor could remember seeing him in a while. Even during their trip to Vanaheim Loki, had barely seemed to relax before something new aggravated him again (though Thor would agree the gryphon was not his best idea).

Perhaps his brother preferred showing off his magics to ones who wouldn't laugh it off as tricks. The children were certainly amused by his stories and illusions. Thor could say the same about himself as he watched (and interrupted) Loki's second tale, though he was admittedly worried that the children might follow in the princes' footsteps. Thor didn't particularly wish to explain to Volstagg why his children were sneaking around the palace and stealing from kitchen maids.

But Thor believed the day was worth it when Loki curled up beside him on Hildegund's floral patterned couch as the brothers waited for the happy couple's return. And then Loki promptly fell asleep on Thor's shoulder.

Gingerly, Thor wrapped an arm around Loki, settling him in place. Thor loved the peaceful look on his brother's face as he slept, no schemes nor doubts flitting around his brother's mind. If Thor was lucky, Loki's calm would last until the two retired to bed themselves. As long as Thor woke him before Volstagg and Hildegund returned, of course.

 

(And when Thor decided to check on the tunnel in garden, he really did find lilies. Realistic ones, enough to fool someone who did not know of the tunnel, but not real ones. But if Loki wanted to keep his little secrets, or if a few extra sweets went missing from the kitchen, Thor was not going to interfere.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's on old-timey nordic word for couch anyway? Does this chapter seem shippy to you? This isn't supposed to be a Thorki fic, but if you want to see it you can. Sorry Thor doesn't get a long chapter; this story isn't really about him.


	6. An' I don't really care If ya think I'm strange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hildy and her siblings hadn't planned on going to see Loki, but the way they saw it, they had no other options.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guh, this is a long one. I feel really weird about the liberties I took with mythology and the stories in this chapter. And I'm not sure if I like this chapter's mood swings, or if I've described the kid's feelings well enough. Warnings for a minor death, sorry. Also, if Part 1 was fluff, then this is the beginning of Part 2: plot. And its nowhere near as fluffy, but it has its moments.

The gold halls streaked past as Hildy ran, breath coming up in gasps. She could hear Gunnar puffing behind her, as desperate to reach their destination as she was. They had already wasted enough time trying to find Loki in his rooms. Their banging and shouting at the prince's doors had caught a guard's attention, who had informed them that the prince was “probably skulking in the library at this time in the afternoon. Either that or conducting some official business with the Allfather.” Hildy hoped it was the former.

After what seemed an age, the thick and intricately carved doors of the library were in front of them. Hildy pushed on door, Gunnar helping from behind when it moved too slowly. The door lurched open more quickly than Hildy expected and she tripped forward. Unbalancing Gunnar as well, he careened into her back. They crashed as a panting, groaning lump into the heavy silence of the library. From her squashed position on the floor, Hildy could see the few patrons closest to the doors level judgemental stares at her and Gunnar.

Elbowing Gunnar off her, Hildy scrambled to her feet and jogged to the official looking old man sitting at an ornate desk to one side of the entrance. He seemed to be trying very hard not to look in her direction as she approached.

“Excuse me, my lord,” she said in between gasps for air once she reached the front of the desk. The man focused his eyes on some slips of parchment on his desk and didn't look down, even when Gunnar appeared at her side with a great deal of shuffling and panting.

Hildy frowned. After coming all this way, Hildy wasn't about to let one obstinate old man stand in her way. She slammed her hands down on top of the smooth wood and repeated, “Excuse me, my lord!”

The man jumped and finally peered down at them. “What do you children want? Where are your parents?” he asked peevishly.

“Where is Prince Loki?” Hildy demanded, crossing her arms. She really hoped the answer wasn't “not here.”

“Why do you wish to know the location of the prince?” the old man asked suspiciously.

Hildy raised up her chin, trying to look noble in her dusty trousers. “Because we are children of one of his dearest friends and wish for an audience.” Beside her, Gunnar fiercely nodded his head. Although from Father's stories, Hildy wasn't sure Loki had “dearest friends,” just friends and Thor.

With a sigh, the old man shifted and pointed into the depths of the stacks. “The prince is currently in rearward portion of the library, in the one of the study areas. I think he does not wish to be disturbed,” he added snidely and returned to his papers.

With a sarcastic, “Thank-you, my lord,” which was echoed by Gunnar, Hildy turned and delved into the stacks. They nearly got lost, wandering around the endless shelves, but Gunnar spotted a sign directing them to the study area of the library, a section devoted to prolonged periods of reading and working. All but one of the tables was empty.

Suddenly nervous, Hildy tugged in Gunnar's arm to slow him down. It would not do to come all this way and be turned down for being disruptive. Cautiously, they approached the table.

It was piled high with books, nearly hiding Loki from view, At first they could only see his smoothed-back hair, head ducked low over the table. Getting closer, they could see him furiously writing something down, various texts spread open around him or propped open against his precarious stacks of tomes.

Once they were just across the table from Loki, Hildy took a moment to decide what she was going to say. She took a deep breath, opened her mouth and-

“If you're looking for the children's section, it is by the front of the library,” Loki said without looking away from his writing. “If you're looking for your second story, now is not the time. And it would be rude to exclude your siblings from hearing it,” he continued. He glanced at one of the texts open off to the side then returned to his notes.

Taken aback, Hildy's prepared statement flew from her head. “Um...”

“We aren't looking for children books,” Gunnar said quickly, covering for her surprise.

“And we don't want a story now,” Hildy added. “We need you to come with us.”

Loki paused, quill poised above his paper. His eyes flicked upward and glanced between the two of them. With his quick-flitting gaze, Hildy felt as if she was being picked apart and analyzed. “Why do you need me? What is wrong with asking your father? Or even Thor?”

Hildy gulped and exchanged glances with Gunnar. They had debated this very thing earlier with Hrolf and Gudrun and had quickly come to a consensus. It had to be Loki.

“It's something we can't tell them,” Hildy met that scrutinous gaze head on. “Please. It's important.”

Leaning back, Loki set his quill down and sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Something like your late night adventures?” His voice was muffled behind his palm.

“...not quite?” Gunnar responded as Hildy bit her lip. She really, really hoped they had not made a mistake. From Father's trips and friendship with the princes, she knew Loki wasn't one to always follow rules. But she knew he was also capricious, and didn't know to what extent he would ignore Asgard's laws for herself and her siblings.

Pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes, Loki seemed to go through some internal debate. “I should have expected this,” he muttered, then lowered his hands and looked at them again. “Alright. I will come with you. But-” he added when Hildy and Gunnar broke out in grins, “I cannot promise that I'll be able to help.” With a wave of hand, his papers and quill vanished and Loki stood up. “Where is your 'something'?” He asked, coming around to their side of the table.

Hildy grabbed one hand of his hands and Gunnar grabbed the other. As she turned back to the entrance of the library she caught something like surprise on Loki face out of the corner of her eye. Maybe he didn't get his hand held often. “We'll show you,” she said, tugging him forward. Though Loki was not quite the size of Thor or Father, Hildy knew she couldn't actually drag Loki along like she could one of her siblings, so she was glad he obliged to being pulled.

When they passed by the old man at the front of the library, she glimpsed his eyebrows shoot up his balding forehead. Glancing back at Loki, she saw the prince stooping to grab her hand in front and Gunnar's at the side, although judging by his slightly upturned lips, Loki didn't seem to mind the awkward position. Before she tugged open the door to the library (which was suspiciously much easier to open than last time) she briefly turned to make a face at the old man. She had the pleasure of seeing his eyebrows climb up farther than she thought possible before she tugged Loki out the door.

Outside the library, Hildy and Gunnar started picking up speed, Loki simply lengthening his stride. Soon they left the palace altogether, taking the doors that led to the forest at the base of the mountain Thruthvanger. The moment their feet hit grass, Hildy and Gunnar ran full tilt towards the trees, Loki's hand slipping out of their's. Luckily, the prince didn't stop or ask questions, merely kept pace behind them.

They entered the woods, ducking and weaving around trees and bush (though Loki seemed unhindered by the underbrush). Eventually they reached the base of a grassy hill (which was more like a very tiny mountain) where Hildy and Gunnar had left Hrolf and Gudrun. As Hildy slowed to catch her breath, she saw both of them stop nervously pacing in front of the large, earthy hole in the side of the hill when they noticed her arrival with Gunnar and Loki in tow. Hrolf and Gudrun rushed forward and latched onto Loki's legs, who looked down at them bemusedly.

“You need to help us-” Hrolf said pleadingly.

“We couldn't think of anyone else-” Gudrun's eyes were watery.

“We think it's hurt.” Hrolf finished. As if on queue, a sound somewhere between a whine and growl emerged from the hole. Hildy watched nervously as Loki head snapped up sharply and narrowed his gaze at the entrance to the cavern.

“ _What_ exactly is hurt?” Loki asked, voice low. He seemed to be scrutinizing the entrance like he had Hildy and Gunnar earlier.

Gently removing Gudrun from one of Loki's legs while Hrolf removed himself, Hildy tugged the prince forward. “We'll show you. Please,” she added when Loki hesitated. He looked down at her then back at the side of the hill before moving. Together the five of them entered the cave, the short tunnel which led to the cavern a comfortable fit for all of them. As the shadows swallowed Hildy the smell hit again, the smell of blood and rotted meat. It was only a few short steps before they emerged in the cave, natural sunlight filtering in through the sparse holes in top of the enormous space.

But Hildy had seen all this already. Instead she was focused on Loki as he saw their secret. Why they needed _his_ help.

Cowering against the far wall of the cavern was what looked like an enormous serpent on first glance. Its white scales glittered where the sun hit it, making the dull brown splotches of dirt and blood more obvious. But the feathered wings, pale with gold gilded edges and speckles of forest green that darkened near the tips, emerging part-way down its body from the head were impossible to miss. Especially as they beat and stretched as the beast let out another rumbled moan. Its tail lashed, tufted like a lion's tail, and fur a light brown. The fur ran all the way down the animal's spine and started between the horns on its head. As if sensing their presence, the beast turned towards them. Aside from the feathers surrounding its skull, its head looked almost entirely like a dragons', the same shrewd intelligence glittering in its golden eyes. But those eyes also held pain and fear, and it groaned again before it snarled at them. Or rather, snarled at Loki. The beast had grown used to Hildy and her siblings' company.

Loki tensed, his grasp tightening, then held his arm out to stop the other three from getting any closer (though they had already been near enough to touch its wings). The prince backed up slowly, taking the Hildy and her siblings with him. As soon as they emerged back in the sun, Loki rounded on them. “Why,” he bit out, “is there an amphithere a mere stroll away from the palace?”

Instead of quailing under Loki's glare, which Hildy felt like doing, Hrolf nudged her and whispered “I told you it was an amphithere, not a linnormr,” to which Hildy replied by jabbing him in the ribs. Loki turned his gaze to Hrolf, who gulped and rubbed his side.

“We found it,” Gunnar said, drawing Loki's ire away from his brother. “Earlier, while we were playing.”

“We were done with our lessons early and we decided to come here.” Hildy took over. “We only heard it because of the sounds it was making.” Hildy felt her eyes welling with her tears as she remembered the pitiful noises, which had lessened once the children had entered the cavern, but she refused to let her tears fall. She stared Loki straight in the eye, taking the full force of that cutting gaze. “It was hurt and we had to do _some_ _thing_. We know that they're dangerous, that they've killed cattle and goats and sometimes Aesir. But it's not hurting anyone now.”

“Someone's hurt it.” Gudrun added solemnly. “And it's afraid.”

Some of the edge seemed to drain out of Loki as he surveyed their expressions. “And what do you want me to do about it?”

Hildy fidgeted. “Well, we thought that you could help it. Make it better. Please.”

With a sigh, Loki briefly looked towards the cavern's entrance before turning back at them. “Why do you need me? You understand that my mastery of the healing arts is tenuous at best? A professional healer, or even one of the animal healers, would be better suited for this. And I'm certain Thor or your father would come to your aid without getting you in trouble.”

Hildy shook her head. “A healer wouldn't help. They'd only get someone to kill it.”

“And Thor and Father aren't good with injuries!” Gunnar added. “And they tell all those stories of killing dragons and trolls so we thought...” Gunnar shuffled his feet and looked to Hildy for help.

“We thought they might hurt it instead.” She continued

Loki raised an eyebrow at them. “Surely I featured somewhere in those stories, assisting them in vanquishing dragons and such.”

“Yes, but not as much and I remembered how you talked about linnormrs before and...” Now it was Hildy's turn to trail off and look at her feet. It had sounded so sensible when they had discussed it earlier. But it was harder saying it when the object of their conversation was right in front of them. Especially when said object seemed to be judging her every word.

“And you wouldn't tell anyone about the amphithere, even if you got drunk,” Hrolf cut in. “Thor and Father aren't good at keeping secrets. And we know that you're also a bit...you tend to...”

“You're strange, and you're a liar and a sneak.” Gudrun interjected, grinning up at Loki as if she hadn't just insulted him. Hildy gaped at her sister. They weren't supposed to say it like that!

Nervously, she turned back towards Loki. He'd gone very still and was staring down at Gudrun, looking surprised but otherwise unreadable. Now Loki would never help them again, and would probably turn them in for offending him.

Slowly, Loki knelt in front of Gudrun, her little sister smiling like she hadn't ruined everything. As Loki reached out a hand and put it on Gudrun's shoulder, Hildy bit her lip. The prince was going to scold Gudrun and then he would take them home and get in trouble (though Hildy would tell on Loki about his own late night adventures if he made Gudrun cry).

Loki looked her sister in the eye. “Gudrun. No one has ever said anything of that sort, to my face or otherwise, and meant it as a compliment before. Thank-you.”

“You're welcome,” Gudrun replied, grin still brightening her little face. A similar grin crept onto Loki's face as Hildy watched, astonished. “Now will you please help it?”

Hildy thought her sister much have some sort of talent with magic, because Loki chuckled and said, “Yes, Gudrun I will help the amphithere.” He stood up. “But it is a _she_ , and she is birthing.”

“What?” Hildy gasped. “Is that what's wrong with it-I mean her?”

But Loki shook his head. “No, she also is injured, which means she must have been desperate, if she is birthing so close to the palace.” He took Gudrun's hand and led her back towards the cavern, Hildy and her brothers following close behind. “I don't believe I can save her, but I will do what I can.”

Once again in the cave, the amphithere's head jerked towards Loki and she growled. Loki let go of Gudrun and motioned to the four of them to stay back. Holding his hands out in the front of him, a sign of peace, Loki walked forward. The amphithere growled again, the rumbling filling the cavern until another wave of pain hit her, turning the noise into a whine. Hildy wanted to comfort the creature but she didn't think petting it like one of the hunting dogs would help.

Now halfway between Hildy and the amphithere, Loki made a shushing sound than starting talking. However, the words weren't in any language Hildy knew, not even the Alltongue. Whatever tongue Loki was speaking in, the amphithere seemed to recognize it. She stopped growling and tilted her head at the prince.

Loki continued speaking, the guttural sounds rolling smoothly off his tongue. Even though Hildy couldn't understand the words, the tone was comforting. It apparently soothed the amphithere, because she lay her head on the floor within Loki's reach. From jaw to brow she was about Loki's height. She made some sounds in the same rasping language, blinking her huge eyes at Loki. As Loki lay a hand on her skull, running fingers along her ruff of feathers, he motioned Hildy and her siblings forwards.

Hildy took the lead, keeping close to Gudrun as they tentatively stroked the feathers. They were softer than expected, but held a firmness that reminded Hildy of her Father's armour.

Loki said a few more words to the amphithere, who gave a moan and twisted the bottom half of her body so her belly was facing the entrance of the cavern. When she saw the blood and deep gash, Hildy couldn't help the gasp that escaped her. She had seen a few of the other scrapes and dented scales on the creature's body, but this injury was much worse. The cut was huge and ragged, running partway along the amphithere's stomach and ending just above a slight bulge in her length.

Giving the creature's head a pat, Loki approached the wound and the bulge, kneeling at her underbelly. Hildy ushered her siblings towards the prince as he examined the wound, the amphithere's one visible eye on her back. “So can you help her?” Hildy asked.

Loki gently ran a hand above the gash, leaving little gold tendrils of magic in his wake. “Maybe.” He answered shortly.

“That language you were speaking...” Hildy started, unsure of how to broach the topic. She'd heard of talking dragons, but she'd never heard of anyone who _spoke_ dragon. Or amphithere. Or talking amphitheres for that matter.

“What was it?” Gudrun finished.

Loki didn't look away from his work as he answered. “Amphitheres, like linnormrs and dragons, are not the mindless, raging beasts that the tales would have you believe. They have their own language and written word, and can understand our tongue if taught it. Though only dragons have the ability to speak it. In fact,” he said, now pressing an ear against the bulge, “dragons and the like are more intelligent than many of Asgard's warriors, and certainly more wily.” Hildy wasn't sure if Loki was joking or not, so she just nodded (although did she wonder just which warriors he was thinking of). “They are solitary creatures, attacking either when starved or when their home or treasure is threatened.” Adding a hand beside the bulge, Loki closed his eyes. After a second, where the only thing that could be heard was the amphithere's harsh breathing, Loki opened his eyes and withdrew his head from the side of the creature's belly. “Or pregnant and looking for a safe place to give birth.”

“So do lots of people speak their language?” asked Gunnar. “Why haven't we heard about it?”

Pressing both hands against the bulge now, Loki let out a short, mirthless laugh. “You have not heard of it because few know of it. And fewer speak it.”

“Then how do _you_ know it,” Hildy demanded.

“Can I learn it?” Gudrun added.

This time Loki let out a real laugh. “Perhaps you might, Gudrun.” He smiled in their direction. “I learnt it by reading texts that were forbidden to be read, hidden away under lock and key and spell, and treading paths that were forbidden to be tread.”

“Of course you did,” Hildy muttered under her breath. Though from the smirk Loki sent her way, he heard her anyway.

“That's not an answer,” Gudrun protested.

“It's the only one you'll have for the time being,” Loki replied, then took a deep breath and sent a surge of gold magic over the amphithere's stomach. The creature groaned, wings folding and unfolding in distress. Loki said a few words in the amphithere's language and she settled down again.

Hildy looked at the amphithere's head, where she had closed her eyes in pain. “Is there anything we can do?” she asked.

Loki shook his head, concentrating on his magic. “Unless you find a healer who can and will heal an amphithere, then no. Maybe not even then.” The creature lifted her head, then with a great effort moved it closer to where the five of them sat. She rumbled a question at Loki, who rasped something back. When the amphithere moaned again, Hildy got up and stroked the feathers on her head. Three little hands joined her as her siblings followed.

“What are you two saying?” asked Hrolf.

The glittering gold magic slowly faded as Loki turned to them. “I told her that I cannot save her, but I can assure the survival of at least one of her children.”

Hildy felt her stomach drop and tears fill her eyes as she looked at the amphithere. The creature's visible eye was half-closed, resigned to her fate. Maybe if Hildy had run faster, or they had spent less time arguing about who to tell then-

“It's not your fault.” Loki interrupted her thoughts. “By the time you found her, nothing short of a professional healer, and one well-versed in dragon anatomy, could have saved her. It is doubtful you would have been able to find and convince one to come out here soon enough.” Pressing his hand against the amphithere's stomach again, he sent more magic into the bulge. Which Hildy guessed must be the creature's womb.

“Will she lay eggs? Like a snake?” Hildy wondered if they would have to care of the eggs until they hatched. She half-turned towards Loki as she smoothed down the feathers.

“No,” he replied. “Unlike dragons, furred amphitheres' eggs hatch inside them. When the child is ready, and they birth their children live.” He pressed his ear against her belly again. “Two of her children did not survive the attack. The third is trying at break through his shell now, a task with which I am assisting him, so he can hatch while his mother can still birth him.” He glanced towards Hildy and her siblings huddled against the amphithere's head. “Luckily I have experience with childbirth.”

“Do you mean Slepnir?” Gudrun asked.

“Gudrun!” Hildy hissed. There was being rude to someone who was being an ass, and then there being mean. Everyone knew you weren't supposed to talk about Slepnir's origins to Loki.

Though when Loki smiled at Gudrun, Hildy decided the prince must have a soft spot for her sister. “Slepnir's birth is one instance yes, but perhaps not the way you are believe. I shudder to think through which rumours you heard _that_ particular story. One day I will have to tell you the tale.” Closing his eyes, Loki did something that brightened the gold layer of magic, and the amphithere let out another moan. Hildy knelt next to the enormous head stroked her scales, the creature leaning into her touch.

“The occurrence I was referencing was your brother Alaric's birth. I was still a youth at the time, barely older than Alaric is now.” Loki turned and said something to the amphithere. She hesitated, rolling her eye toward Hildy and her siblings where they crouched beside her head, then rumbled back. Quickly answering, Loki turned back to the amphithere's underbelly. “I was in the healing rooms,” he continued, “expanding upon my knowledge of those arts. The healers were eager to oblige, demonstrating that which could not be learned out of a book. I was also listless and craving excitement, my brother having absconded with your father, Sif, Fandral, and Hogun on some adventure or other. One on which I was too young to accompany them. And the five of them were late in returning.

“I was in middle of learning how to set a bone, under strict supervision, when your mother was rushed in. She was in labour. And cursing creatively enough to embarrass even the most bawdy of warriors. Unfortunately, it just so happened that the healers resolved I should have a introductory lesson to childbirth right there and then. They ordered me to grab a draught for easing birthing pains and help administer it to Hildegund. Rather disconcerted by your mother's language and the unforeseen turn of events, I complied without objection. However, while I was trying to administer the draught, Hildegund took notice of my presence. Faster than a linnormr, she snatched up my free hand.

“Now as you know, Thor is the strongest warrior in the nine realms. His grip was _nothing_ compared to your mother's. I believe that in that moment, she could have lifted Mjolnir and smashed Asgard to pieces if she were not occupied by Alaric. As I was caught in her uru grip, she yanked me towards her. I nearly lost a hold on the draught, and only my years of potion making and dagger throwing saved it from being poured all over your mother. When she had dragged me close enough, she roared at me, as fearsome as our amphithere here.” As if in agreement, the amphithere rumbled, the sound vibrating Hildy's body. “She demanded to know if I had an inkling of Volstagg's current whereabouts. Then she proceeded to call him various names for being absent in her time of need, all the while crushing my hand. Confronting your mother's anger, I'm afraid to say my powers of speech deserted me. I made a sound somewhat similar to a squeak and tried to bring the draught to Hildegund's attention by waving in her face.”

Hildy couldn't help it. She giggled, her younger siblings joining in. Even the amphithere seemed to laugh, huffing out a staccato growl. Though that probably had something to do with her birthing rather than Loki's tale. The thought of the amphithere's pain brought Hildy's mirth to halt. She swallowed, feeling a bit guilty for laughing when the creature lay dying.

“She took notice of course, and to my stuttered explanation of 'pain reliever,' she downed the whole cup,” Loki continued once they were quiet again. “But still she crushed my hand, though the most severe of her cramps were alleviated. 'Where is Volstagg?' she growled at me. 'Where is that cursed husband of mine?'

“Never before had I been so terrified of Hildegund, I was could barely answer of fear of attracting her wrath. Yet answer I did, mumbling something about 'travelling' and 'late'. Your mother glared at me so I tried to slip away, but she had another contraction and squeezed my hand. I could have sworn I heard my fingers crack. I looked frantically for a healer to extricate me from your mother and set me another errand, but they were occupied with other tasks. And perhaps amused by my predicament. Finally the head of the ward, Greta, told me to keep close, continue holding Hildegund's hand, and pay strict attention to the magics and techniques used. Considering my position, I could do little else. Especially since Hildegund had probably forgotten my existence, distracted as she was Alaric's coming.”

Suddenly the amphithere let out a sound halfway between a growl and roar and closed her eyes, and Loki abruptly switched from the Alltongue to the dragon language. Hildy turned away from the amphithere, where she saw Loki reaching into the creature's birthing canal. With a great, wet, slick sound, a pale green thing slid out into Loki's waiting arms. It was squirming and making distressed chirping sounds and the amphithere answered, rumbling low quietly.

“Is that it? Is it over?” Hildy asked, standing up. Loki didn't answer, still talking dragon-speak and bringing the squirming shape towards them. Hildy could see that the baby amphithere was quite large, nearly as long as Loki was tall. It had darker green fledgling wings and tufts of white fur on its head and tail.

Loki carefully set the baby next to the mother's snout and drew back to where Hildy stood near the feathery ruff. He sat down between Gudrun and Gunnar, tugging Hildy down with him, as the amphithere gently flicked her tongue towards her baby.

“Lucky for Volstagg, he returned before Alaric was born,” Loki said softly

Hildy started, then drew her eyes away from the amphitere nuzzling her child as she realized that Loki was continuing his story. Was he trying to give the two creatures a bit of privacy?

“By that time my hand was numb, but for once I did as I was told. I watched the healers as they worked and listened as they explained the process and spells used. Alaric was crowning when Volstagg rushed in and ran to your mother's side, red-faced and still in his filthy hunting clothes. He didn't notice me at first, concentrating on soothing his wife and ignoring the healers' protests. When my presence finally came to his attention he looked quite astonished. I would have enjoyed his confusion, had I not been in shock myself. I was saved from answering your father's questions by Alaric deciding to make his appearance. And so I managed, along with your parents and a handful of healers, to witness my first birth, as well as learn how to facilitate one. Though it seemed much less momentous at the time, as I made my escape as soon as the healers and your mother allowed me.” Loki stood and turned around. He gently stroked the amphithere's head, from just above the eye ridge to the base of her horns. Still nuzzled against her child, the amphithere closed her eyes. “Since that time, I am pleased to say I am rather more experienced in that area of sorcery.” Loki hesitated for a breath, then said, “Though not as skilled as I could be.” The last sentence was said very quietly and soberly, instead of with the wry humour Loki had been using for the rest of his story.

The cavern grew silent as Loki stopped talking, the only sound the little amphithere's cries. It was only when Gudrun clutched Hildy's hand and looked up at her with tears in her eyes that Hildy realized what was missing: the mother amphithere's laboured breathing and the soft rustling of her feathers and scales. Hildy drew Gudrun closer as she lay a hand on the creature's head. Something felt wrong, the little movements and warmth that meant life were gone. It was as if the amphithere were empty, a slab of meat like the roast fowl she had had for lunch. Hildy felt her stomach turn.

So focused on the amphithere, she barely noticed that Loki had left their side until she heard the little amphithere's chirps drawing closer. She turned and saw Loki directly behind them, the baby in his arms.

“She's gone, isn't she?” Gudrun asked, tears running down her face.

Loki nodded and set in front of them the little amphithere, whose cries were growing quieter as he settled. Hildy felt a tear drip down her face, and rubbed her eyes with her sleeve.

It felt like they had just ignored the amphithere as she slipped away, caught up in Loki's story. That they had disrespected her final moments. “Why didn't you say anything?” she protested, trying to glare at Loki through the tears.

“Would you have preferred silence? Contemplating death while her life slipped away and you stewed in your helplessness and despair? Because she did not. She agreed to let me translate the story for her, up here,” he indicated the lifeless skull, “using both our innate magics. She enjoyed it, the story of birth and hope, holding at bay her fear of death and worry for her child's future.” Loki started pacing in front of them and his shoulders slumped. For a moment Hildy thought he looked exhausted before Loki straightened up again. “Think of it as her death wish, a distraction until her child was birthed and she could see him before she passed on.” Stopping, Loki knelt, bringing himself eye-to-eye with them, and stroked the head of the now-sleeping hatchling. “Mourn her as you would any Ás, with celebration of your knowledge of her life. You all know that one who dies a warrior's death will enter Valhalla. The amphithere died in childbirth, fighting for both her own and her hatchlings' lives. I'm sure her death is worthy of a place in the amphithere form of Valhalla, flying free from any warrior's blade and waiting for her child to join her.”

Hildy wasn't sure if she felt any better. She wondered if Loki believed what he was saying or if he was just trying to comfort them. He looked sincere, as he gave them a fleeting but sad smile, but appearances meant little with Loki.

“Now, though, I must take care of the mother's body. It will bring scavengers, or someone will stumble upon it and there will be a search for more amphitheres or dragons in the area. And you should go home to your mother before she send the guards or Heimdall after you. If you want to help Jörmungandr, then be here tomorrow afternoon.”

“Jörmungandr?” Hildy asked, already pulling Gudrun towards the entrance.

“His mother named him. It is the closest approximation of his name in our tongue.” Loki made shooing motions then laid both his hands on the lifeless head. Hildy didn't turn around as she hurried her siblings out of the cavern. She didn't want to watch whatever Loki did with the body.

Gudrun was glued to her side as they walked back though the trees, quiet except for the crunches of twigs and leaves beneath their feet.

“I didn't want her to die. She wasn't supposed to die,” Gudrun whispered at some point. “We were supposed to save her.”

“I know,” Hildy whispered back, and wrapped an arm around her sister's shoulder. She thought back on all tales she'd heard from Father, of the great dragon hunts of old. And ones he'd gone on. “I know.”

 

After the meal, woodenly eating though she was not hungry, Hildy felt empty. She wanted to go to bed, to forget, but it was too early and Mother would wonder if she was sick. Before she had decided if the questions were worth an early end to the day, there was a knock at the entrance door. Hildy watched as Father answered, and Hildy nearly jumped when he opened to the door to a very relaxed looking Loki.

Father smiled and laughed, then excused himself to step outside with the prince. Would Loki tell him about the amphithere ? Was he lying this whole afternoon? Hildy wished she was good at eavesdropping, because all she could hear from the kitchens were unintelligible murmurs. Although no one raised their voice, so that had to be a good sign. She looked around for Gunnar, Hrolf, and Gudrun. The boys looked worried, glancing up from where they had been drawing in the corner, but Gudrun was still reading quietly with Jargsa and Mother.

Soon Father came back in, followed by Loki. “Children,” Father announced, “Loki has decided to tell you a story before you go to bed, so off to the drawing room!”

As Flosi and Alaric protested that they were much too old for a story, Hildy wondered what Loki had said to convince Father that this visit was completely ordinary. She didn't have much time for contemplation however, since as soon as the nine of them were settled (Flosi and Alaric had won their argument), Loki launched into the story of how he discovered a very special book. One that led him to a very specific set of stairs that could only be found after pressing a very specific set of stones.

By the end of the story, Hildy was sure Loki had included much more adventure and danger than he could have possibly gone through in search for a book, but she wasn't going to complain. Not since she went to sleep thinking about tunnels under the palace and underwater caves and trolls, instead of dead dragons and a lifeless body under cool white scales.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it's a Jörmungandr origin story that wasn't actually planned until this chapter started coming together. And Loki probably doesn't believe his explanation about “amphithere heaven”, but what else can you say to children? Most of the information about dragons/amphitheres/etc is pretty much taken from my handy-dandy book of Dragonology. And then completely ignored for the sake of the plot. The method of birthing the amphithere used is called ovoviviparity, even though if they existed amphitheres would probably be oviparous (egg-laying) instead. There are some lovely pictures of amphitheres [here](http://www.newgrounds.com/art/view/cons14/amphithere-dragon) and [here](http://dawnfrost.deviantart.com/art/Amphithere-ref-sheet-63192812). Also, in Norse Mythology Thor's mansion on Asgard is called Thruthvanger, and I stole the name for the mountain. Sorry, no significance there.


	7. The world's in trouble There's no communication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jörmungandr's a handful to deal with, but Hildy and siblings can handle it, as long as Loki's around. And Hildy thought he'd always be willing help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another long one. Sorry about the angst. And lying to children is excusable if it's about death, right?

Jörmungandr grew faster than a mortal child, but according to one of Loki's books, he would live about half as long an Ás once he reached adulthood. Loki's books were full of very complicated and strange words. They were also very heavy and Hildy wished she could magic them away like Loki did so she didn't have to carry them. But they helped Hildy and her three siblings care for Jörmungandr when Loki wasn't around, which happened more and more often once Jörmungandr began eating hares and birds instead of meat paste.

The agreement the five of them came to (well, Loki described an agreement and Hildy and her siblings nodded along) inside the cavern with the hissing and chirping Jörmungandr draped across their feet, was to raise the amphithere together. They would come to the cave when they could, which meant afternoons for Hildy and her siblings, and whenever for Loki. Although if she got up early enough, Hildy would bring along Gudrun for an morning visit (Gunnar and Hrolf had made a fuss the first time she woke them up, so she decided not try a second time). Loki would also bring food until Jörmungandr could forage for himself, and teach them how to raise the amphithere.

Hildy was pretty sure Loki did quite a bit more for the hatchling, like teach him to speak the dragon-tongue (because Jormunngandr's growls slowly started to sound less like mewls and more like what Hildy had heard from the amphithere's mother). And since Loki's books had assured them that all dragons and their relatives had a form of magic, Hildy couldn't imagine the prince passing up on a chance to bestow his knowledge onto a willing pupil. Not to mention that Jörmungandr eagerly displayed his hunting skills by wrapping himself around a hare and squeezing the life out of it before presenting it at Hildy's feet as a gift. The only way Hildy knew how to hunt was with snares and bows, and usually with Father helping guide her arrows.

When they first came back to the cavern, though, Hildy didn't really want to re-enter it. Her siblings seemed just as reluctant, shuffling their feet behind her. She thought that she would be able to feel the death, see the blood or the rotting carcass. Loki had taken one look at their faces when he tried to usher them into the cave before he sighed and crouched down in front of them. “Are you afraid?” he asked, curious rather than mocking.

Hildy glanced at her siblings, who all looked at her. She had to be their spokeswoman. “I thought we were supposed to kill dragons and things,” she said to the ground. “But this felt wrong. It wasn't like in the stories.” She felt tears gather in the corner of her eyes and furiously blinked them away. “I didn't know killing things was like this. I don't want to watch them die.”

“No one likes the killing,” Loki assured her. “No one is supposed to. They enjoy the fight and the rush battle, but not the death. And if they do enjoy it, particularly if they turn that pleasure against their fellow warriors, then they generally receive a new home in the Allfather's dungeons.” He tilted his head. “You all enjoy fighting in your games, is that not so?”

Hildy nodded and her brothers muttered their assent, but Gudrun dropped her head and mumbled, “Not really.” Hildy looked at her sister, surprised. She had thought Gudrun liked their mock battles.

Loki didn't looked all that shocked though. “Well, the three of you enjoy it. You two,” he pointed at Hrolf and Gunnar, “will join the warrior's ranks when you are of age. And Hildy, your father is petitioning to let you train, either under the Valkyrie or as a normal warriors.” Hildy's nodded. She always knew she would learn to fight, no matter who stood in her way, but if her petition went through she would have the freedom to train however she wanted. The thought brought a smile to her face, before she remembered the feel of the empty body under hand. She swallowed her glee.

“What about me?” Gudrun asked.

“And you, little Gudrun, would make a fine diplomat. It would be a waste if you were not taught politics. And perhaps a bit of magecraft.” Gudrun's face brightened a bit, her lips slightly less down-turned.

“But when the three of you become warriors, you will have to kill. The first kill, the first battle, is always the hardest. Then it gets easier, and the deaths stop weighing down your mind.” Loki's face grew shadowed, lost in memories. “You cannot avoid killing. Just as you cannot avoid losing any of your own comrades, either in battle or otherwise. But you comfort yourself,” he continued, face clearing and a small smile emerging, “because they died a death worthy of a seat in Valhalla's halls. And when Volstagg, Hildegund, Alaric, or even yourselves die, it will be with enough glory for your spirit to reside beside them.” Loki looked at them, eyes wide and earnest (Hildy had the oddest thought that Loki sounded a bit like _Thor_ when he spoke about Valhalla), and Hildy wanted to his words to make everything better. She knew Valhalla was real, just like Helheim was real, but it didn't help when death meant gone forever. Or gone until she died herself and was left her own family behind.

“Will our friends be there?” Gunnar asked, interrupting her thoughts. “And Thor and Sif and Uncle Hogun and Uncle Fandral?” He was rubbing at his eyes, cheeks glistening with tear tracks.

“Of course they will. They would die no other way.” Loki gave them a reassuring smile.

“And you? Will you be there?” Gudrun pursed her lips as she looked up at Loki.

Loki's grin twisted and faltered. “Well, I'll be around. Fighting and drinking all day long seems like such a bore.” He looked past them at the forest for second, features smoothing before returning his gaze to them. “But the only thing to be afraid of in there is a bit of amphithere dung because I need to teach you how to clean it up.” Hildy wrinkled her nose while Loki just chuckled at their expressions. “Honour the dead, do not fear them. The amphithere died bravely and she rather liked you four. She wouldn't wish you to be afraid. Now come, Jörmungandr is hungry.”

He stood and spun around, striding into the cavern without a glance back them. Hildy took a steadying breath before taking Gudrun's hand and following the prince.

 

After only a few afternoons spent in the cavern, looking after Jörmungandr, Hildy could barely remember that overwhelming dread. With her siblings, the little amphithere stretching his fledgling wings as he chirped, and sometimes even Loki, the cavern was like a secret hideout for the six of them.

They couldn't always be there together, though. As the youngest Gudrun had the most free time, and Mother would let her play by herself earlier in the day. Meanwhile Hildy had to listen to some old scholar drone on about proper etiquette for a dinner between Æsir nobles and a Vanr diplomat (which had completely different rules for a dinner between Vanir nobles and an Ás diplomat) because the tutors said all future Lords and Ladies had to know how to conduct themselves properly. Sometimes though, if she was lucky, Father would bring her, Gunnar, and Hrolf down to the sparring rings and point out the techniques each warrior used, or comment on sloppy form and ways it could be improved. And then Gudrun would come home in the evening, whispering stories about how Jör nearly got off the ground this time or she though his horns might be coming in (though the books said they wouldn't come in for a year or two). And judging by the gold sparks Hildy thought she saw shoot out from in between Gudrun's snapping fingers when her little sister thought no one was watching, Hildy and her brothers weren't the only one being taught new skills. Gudrun must really be Loki's favourite if he wanted to informally teach her magic along with Jörmungandr.

Even as Loki visited less and less as Jörmungandr grew more and more independent, they would occasionally come across him leaning against the wall of the cavern's entrance, watching the not-so-little amphithere glide off a low hanging branch (he still had trouble flying). Jör would growl excitedly at the presence of his whole “family”, showing off his new hunting skills or attempting to drape himself over all five of them at once (but mostly ending up nearly squashing everyone except for Loki). Soon, though, Loki would leave and Jörmungandr would reattempt flying while Hildy and her siblings cheered him on.

But sometimes four children couldn't take care of another one on their own, Hildy learned. Especially one that seemed more animal than Ás.

So once again Hildy found herself racing down the palace's golden corridors in a mad dash to Loki's rooms, but with Hrolf and Gudrun in addition to Gunnar. She hoped to the Norns that Loki hadn't disappeared to wherever it was Loki disappeared to when he was gone, but not with Father and his friends (and Father had just come back from an adventure with Fandral, Hogun, Sif, and the princes, and she knew everyone but Loki would have the sense to rest for a few days before leaving again).

They a rounded the corner, Hrolf nearly slipping on the polished floor and Gudrun resolutely keeping up, puffing for air but adamant that she wouldn't be left behind (Hildy had slowed her pace to assure that Gudrun would get her wish). The corridor that led to Loki's rooms was just up ahead, and luckily no one was around to ask why they were running (although considering they were in the _prince's_ residential quarters, there should have been more guards).

When they entered the hall with Loki's rooms just a few footsteps away, Hildy thought luck must really be on their side today, because there was Loki just in front of his quarters, head bowed. He was reaching towards his door, but he _must_ have heard them since _no one_ could sneak up on Loki. Hildy skidded to a halt in front of Loki's doors before he opened them, looking up at the prince and catching her breath while Gunnar nearly crashed into her from behind with Hrolf and Gudrun in tow.

Loki froze and jerked his head towards them in surprise. Still trying to breathe enough air to speak coherently, Hildy noticed that Loki's normally indolent posture was rigid and hunched, and his eyes had an odd sheen to them. She frowned as she considered his shock and the strange glistening in his eyes, but her mission was more important than her confusion (and curiosity).

“Loki” she gasped, still panting. “We need...help...it's-”

Before she could huff out the next word, Loki's slightly open mouth snapped shut and he bared his teeth. “ _My_ help? You need _my_ help for another one of your petty misdeeds because you're terrified of being recognized as less than _perfect_ young citizens of Asgard,” he snarled, wide-eyed surprise transforming in a glare.

Behind her, she felt Gunnar flinch. Hildy herself took a small step back and found her arms raising beside her, as if she could shield her younger siblings from the prince's rage with her body. Never before had Loki acted like this, or at least not in front of them. “N-no, we aren't,” Hildy took a deep steadying breath. She would _not_ stutter. “That's not it. Jörmungandr's sick, and we don't know what to do.” As she stared pleadingly in the face of Loki's anger, she wanted to run and hide behind Father, make him deal with his enraged friend, but she held her gaze.

Loki's expression flickered briefly, an emotion too hard to catch appearing before his eyes hardened again. “Then deal with it. Inform a healer. I do not care, so long as you keep your _insignificant_ little struggles to yourselves or someone who has the time to waste,” he spat. Too stunned to move, Hildy only watched as Loki yanked his door open just wide enough for him to slip through, then slammed the door shut.

There was complete silence for a heartbeat before Gudrun burst into tears. Blinking at the shut door, Hildy felt a surge of rage as she listened to her sister's wails. Spinning on her heels, Hildy saw that aside from Gudrun, she was the first of her siblings to recover. Gunnar was staring flabbergasted at Loki's rooms, and Hrolf was gaping and reaching halfheartedly for Gudrun.

Gently pushing Gunnar to the side (even though she wanted to hit something, smash something to pieces), Hildy put an arm around Gudrun's shoulder. Gudrun buried her face against Hildy's chest, soaking Hildy's clothes through with her tears.

“Jör's gonna die!” Gudrun howled, burying her fists in Hildy's tunic.

Hildy smoothed a hand over her sister's hair. “No, he's not,” she said firmly to the top of her sister's head. “He'll be fine. Trust me.” She jerked her head towards Gunnar, who was staring back at her, looking lost. “Take Gudrun back to Jörmungandr. Both of you,” she said, flicking eyes towards Hrolf, “and do whatever you can for him.”

Holf jumped to remove one of Gudrun hands from Hildy's tunic, but Gunnar hesitated.

“Now,” Hildy growled. Her brothers would get in the way if they stayed, and Gudrun was in no position to help.

With a terse nod, Gunnar tugged Gudrun's other arm away and pulled her back down the corridor, Hrolf morosely lagging behind.

When she could no longer hear her sister's sobs, Hildy banged on Loki's door, pouring all her anger and frustration into her fists. “Loki, I know you can hear me!” She hollered. “Open this door right now!”

The door remained shut. “You can't stay there all day! I'll..I'll get Thor! And Father!” Maybe they could smash down the door, or Prince Thor could make his brother listen. But that would mean telling them _why_ she wanted Loki to come out. Apparently Loki knew it too, since nothing happened.

“Or I'll sit down right in front of this door until you come out.” Which she did, huffing and crossing her arms on top of her legs. “And someone will come by and _they'll_ make you come out!” That was a pretty weak attempt (and sounded more childish than Hildy had wanted), and convincing Loki to do anything would take more than whining. Hildy wondered how Gudrun always seemed to know what to say to change the prince's mind. “I'll tell the king that you were sneaking around the palace the same nights we met you,” she proclaimed wildly. “And you probably don't have a very good reason for it!” Although Loki could probably think if one, but Hildy was running out of ideas.

After a moment, Hildy wracking her thoughts for something else to shout, the door opened, startling Hildy. It was opened barely wide enough for Hildy to fit her hand through, but with only a second's hesitation, Hildy pushed the door open. As soon as she entered it slammed shut behind her.

The room was well lit by torches, and littered with orderly stacks of books all over the tables and shelves. A few of the tables held beakers and strange little instruments. Against one of those tables, one at the side of the room, leaned Loki

“Are you _really_ attempting to blackmail me?” Loki's asked sardonically. All signs of his outburst were gone, leaving his face blank except for one raised eyebrow. “Unlike you, I have full run of the palace, and no arbitrary bed time.”

Hildy wasn't about to be distracted or intimidated (although she was a bit, but at least she wouldn't show it), nor would she waste her chance. Loki had let her in for a reason, and though she couldn't fathom exactly what had convinced him, she would find a reason for him to come out. She marched further into the room to face him, crossing her own arms. To her left was another table covered in a neatly stacked piles of book, and behind her a bookshelf. “I don't care about that. I care about Jörmungandr. You can't abandon him. You've helped raise him, you helped _birth_ him, and now you're going to help him get better.” She tried to use the voice Mother did when she was angry, the one that said that there would be no arguing. But that voice didn't work too well coming from a child.

“I already told you what to do about Jörmungandr,” Loki replied coldly. “Find a healer, or someone skilled at taking care of animals. It's what you should have done in the first place.” He straightened up and turned to one the rooms deeper in his quarters. “You should probably leave before his conditions worsens.”

“But nobody else will listen!” Hildy yelled at his retreating back. Loki didn't stop. In a flash of anger, Hildy picked up a book from the nearest table. She wasn't sure what she was going to do with it-throw it on the floor, throw it at the all the delicate instruments on the table across from her, throw it at _Loki_ -but stopped when she noticed the title. She glanced at the spines of the other books beside her. They all had similar titles.

“You were learning how to help,” Hildy said breathlessly, then repeated louder, “You were learning how to help!”

“What do you mean?” Loki paused, one hand on the doorway, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.

Hildy held up her find. “This. You couldn't save Jörmungandr's mother, and you said you weren't a good healer.” She turned the book over and read the embossed letters. “ _Comprehensive Anatomy of Animals of the Dragon Family_.” She gestured to the books on the table. “These are books about healing.”

Narrowing his eyes, Loki stalked towards her. “Give me that,” he hissed, snatching the text from her hand. “My interests do not concern _you_.”

“If _your interests_ can help Jörmungandr, then of course they concern me!” Hildy glared. “If you've been learning more healing magic, if you know more about amphitheres, then _why aren't you helping us_!”

Loki's eyes widened, then he blinked and glared back. “I will not argue with a _child_.” he snapped. “I have better methods of wasting my time.”

But Hildy already knew why he wasn't helping, if that was the best answer Loki could muster. She'd seen it before Loki had entered his rooms. “You know, just because you're crying doesn't mean you have to make other people cry,” she said hotly.

Loki jerked back. “Excuse me?”

Hildy stuck her chin out. “You heard me. I have enough siblings to know what it looks like when they 're holding back tears.” Or seen it herself in the mirror, but Loki didn't need to know that. “I know you heard Gudrun crying. And I know you like her and you've been teaching her magic, so don't tell me that she doesn't matter to you! Just like I know Jör matters to you!” Her voice steadily climbed in volume until she was nearly screaming. Her felt her rage bubbling to the surface, hands clenched into fists. “You can be sad and angry if you want, but don't take it out on her. So you're going heal Jör and apologize to Gudrun for making her cry!”

Loki stared down at her, face unreadable, then looked to the side. He ran a hand through his hair. “You remind of someone,” he murmured, then his thin lips twisted in a scowl. “When he is not being a simpleton.”

Hildy frowned, breathing hard after all her shouting. That wasn't the reaction she'd been expecting. Or been hoping for. “Is this...simpleton the reason you were crying?” she asked, trying to keep her rage and impatience from her voice. Maybe if Loki told her why he was crying, he'd feel better and start acting normal again.

Loki's gaze became unfocused. “No,” he muttered, more to himself than her. Abruptly moving his attention to the table beside her, Loki began picking through the healing books. “Go back to Jörmungandr.”

Hildy felt her mouth drop open. “So you still won't help us? Then why'd you let me in if you were just going to make me leave? Wait,” she snapped as Loki began opening his mouth, “you really _were_ doing something wrong when you saw us out at night? Because if you don't come with me, I _will_ tell the king and then-”

“Peace, Gunnhild,” Loki interrupted. The use of her full name jarred Hildy enough for her to oblige. “I will come with you, but I need some materials. Do you know Jörmungandr's symptoms?”

“Oh, um...” The sudden change in topic left Hildy's mind blank for a few moments. Her body was still shaking from the anger that had coursed through it. “His eyes were dull, and he kept moaning. He wouldn't open his wings and he wouldn't eat anything.” Even to Hildy's ear that sounded like a pitiful description. But she couldn't explain how scared she had been listening to Jörmungandr groan and whine, twisting and jerking into awkward shapes. Or how much the sounds reminded Hildy of the only time she saw Jörmungandr's mother.

Loki paused in rifling through his books. He still wasn't looking at her. “If that is all, then return to Jörmungandr. I will be there shortly.” His voice was brusque. Emotionless. Grabbing a pile of texts, he disappeared into another of his rooms without looking in her direction.

Hildy took a deep breath, trying to get her anger under control, and retreated to the door. One hand on the handle, she turned back to the empty room. “Thank-you.” she whispered.

There was no answer, not even the sound of Loki moving about.

Hoping that Loki kept his word, Hildy left the prince's quarters.

 

Hildy needn't have worried; she had barely finished telling her siblings that Loki was coming before the prince arrived. If he noticed the way Gunnar and Hrolf stood and drew back, or how Gudrun drew her legs to her chest and wrapped her arms around her knees, or that Hildy moved so she remained between Loki and her siblings, he said nothing. In fact, he continued saying nothing as he knelt beside Jör and began examining the amphithere. Jörmungandr moaned and rumbled as Loki laid a hand on the dull green scales, occasionally drawing a book out of nowhere to consult it before sending back into nothingness. Hildy dared not break the silence, only remained sitting protectively in front of her siblings, watching the rigid lines of Loki's back and Jörmungandr's writhing.

Eventually Loki stood up and turned towards the cavern's entrance. As Hildy jumped to her feet, ready to unleash a tirade at his retreating back, Loki said he needed a potion from the palace. He sounded terse, speaking towards empty space.

Sitting back down, Hildy wondered if the prince was still angry at them for seeing his tears, or angry at himself for shedding them.

Loki returned long before it was possible to make the trek to the palace, let alone wander its halls and come back (but as with everything to do with Loki, Hildy figured it was either magic or trickery). Rubbing a soothing hand against Jörmungandr's skull, he whispered something to the young creature. With a whine Jör opened his mouth, his jagged teeth now nearly as long as Hildy's hand, and Loki tipped a jug full of a bright pink liquid down his throat.

When the potion was finished, Jörmungandr closed his eyes, whines petering off into rumbling snores. Loki gave the amphithere one last pat, then turned to Hildy. “Give him one of these each day,” he said, drawing two more jugs of the potion from nowhere and setting them in front of Hildy. “By the third day he should be fine.” His voice was inflectionless, as flat as his expression.

As he turned to leave again, Hildy thought of reaching out to grab his arm. To tell him that she didn't care if he was crying. She was angry that he yelled at them and insulted them, but she didn't _hate_ him. She still liked him when he wasn't upset. She liked his stories and his magic and the forbidden knowledge he would share with them when he felt like it. But instead she just watched him leave in silence, shoulders hunched and head bowed.

She wondered if he would come back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loki's angry and taking out his feelings on others, but Hildy's having none of it. Good thing she's better equipped to deal with feelings than he is. Sorry, we won't get the reason behind Loki's feelings for a while. Loki doesn't really believe his little speech about Valhalla (well, he believes in Valhalla since they all know Valhalla in real, but he doesn't ascribe to the sentiment behind it). That's why he sounds like Thor, he's basically parroting his brother's attitude. Also, I'm using Ás because it looks better than Áss.


	8. An' I only feel good When I got no pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki makes his promised apology, and then launches in to a promised story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some awkward avoidance of the sex talk in this chapter, but don't worry though, adults are always more awkward explaining sex to children than children are hearing about it. Also, I take it everyone reading this fic has heard the mythological origins of Slepnir, so I don't think it needs repeating. Especially in a kid fic. Warnings for animal experimentation, sort of.

The first time Jörmungandr flew, actually flew instead of just gliding or hovering, was the first time they saw Loki since Jörmungandr had been sick. They had gone a bit farther into the woods, into a ravine where Jörmungandr's flight would be less noticeable. As the four of them whooped and cheered from the bank, Jörmungandr swept through the air above the water, his dappled emerald wings nearly stretching from one bank to the other. He landed with a splash, half in the river, making excited rumblings. But instead of heading towards the four of them, Jör rested his head on the bank just behind them.

Sitting on a large rock, running a hand over Jörmungandr's ruff of feather, was Loki. His attention was on Jörmungandr, but glanced at them in a way Hildy thought was almost sheepish. Gunnar stiffened and drew back, and Hrolf took his brother's lead. But Hildy didn't think the prince was here to yell at them again. She approached him slowly, as if he might disappear again if she moved too fast, and began petting Jör's ruff as well, never taking her eyes off Loki.

Gudrun wasn't so careful. She brushed past Hildy and clambered onto the rock beside Loki. Obligingly, Loki shifted over. He was still looking at Jörmungandr when he said, “Gudrun, your sister informed me that I owe you an apology. I regret my uncouth words, and the tears and anguish they elicited. They were ill-spoke and untrue.”

Hildy watched as Gudrun mulled over the words. Loki's face was as blank as ever, the only sign of emotion his fingers as he fidgeted with the hem of his tunic. Gudrun was more transparent, frowning as she thought, before smiling. “I accept your apology,” she said primly, then reached over to give Jörmungandr a few pats.

Smiling, Loki raised his eyes, gaze flickering between the siblings before settling on Hildy. She gave a nod, deciding that was probably the best (and most sincere) apology they would receive from the prince. With a sigh, Loki leaned back, one hand still on Jörmungandr's head as the amphithere rumbled in contentment. “You asked about Slepnir's birth. It is doubtful that I should share this story with children, but it was promised. Mostly as a distraction.” Loki frowned briefly. “However, this story is rather less vulgar than the ones you are probably familiar with.” Which Hildy thought was a relief, since she couldn't see how the story could be any more indecent. And she didn't particularly want Gudrun asking her to explain the more intricate details of the story again (although they'd all had the talk from Mother that started with “When a man and women love each other very much...”).

“You know of the builder,” Loki continued, “who wanted the sun, the moon, and the Lady Freya in return for building great fortifications around Asgard, but whose labour could not be interfered with. You also know of his horse Svaðilfari, whom I had noticed did vast majority of the work, yet no such clauses had been made against him. So when the situation was dire, the course of action seemed obvious. Draw away the horse. Perhaps less obvious was the method I had decided on to occupy the horse, with its, erm, natural urges to mate.” A slight colour rose in Loki's cheeks. Hildy nodded, encouraging him to go on. She hoped he didn't try to explain horse biology to them (now _that_ talk they'd had from Father, when they'd asked why their ponies were unavailable to ride).

Taking her cue, Loki went on, “The only trouble was, none of the mares in the stable were currently in heat, and I couldn't easily take a horse from a more distant stable in the little time left before the fortifications would be completed. So I concocted a potion that would drive a mare into the heat. The potion was made with considerable haste, little experience, and copious amounts of guesswork, as I had only been of age for a few decades before this incident. The resulting potion was not exactly conventional, although it was effective enough.

“I led the chosen mare, Grani, a short distance from Svaðilfari. But before administering the potion, I had to assure the mare would run as far and as fast as possible. So I had to, in a manner, conjoin our minds for a while. Allowing me to nudge her forward against her instincts. In theory, the mare was only supposed to run away, but as you know Svaðilfari caught up. I had to work a final bit of spellcraft to, ah-” Loki shifted uncomfortably and his pale cheeks reddened again, “make sure they stayed all night.”

“With them rutting?” asked Gudrun, with such a serious face that Hildy tried not to giggle at her expression (or Loki's discomfort).

Loki fidgeted with his tunic again. “Erm, yes. But, um, when the mare became pregnant, my experimentation and layering of magics caused some complications. It was discovered that Grani couldn't handle the pregnancy on her own, and the aid of my magic was most effective at soothing the mare and her child. So my father made certain that I looked after Grani and her child, as her state was my fault. The inordinate amount of time I spent in the stables, and my absence the night of the pregnancy, probably fuelled most of those _lovely_ rumours you heard.” Loki rolled his eyes.

“Eventually the foal was birthed, with a great deal of help on my part, since the unusual shape of the foal made the labour rather difficult. The effects of my magic were apparent in Slepnir's eight legs and his prodigious swiftness. Perhaps some of Slepnir's unusualness could be attributed to Svaðilfari, but _I_ like to think my endeavours are mostly to blame. And people continue to believe...” Looking off to the side, Loki let out a soft, bitter laugh. “Well, that story is not meant for children.”

Frowning, Hildy stared off into nothing. She knew that Thor had killed the Jotun disguised as the builder, effectively ending any threat the builder posed to Asgard. Meanwhile, Loki was credited with delaying the builder enough for the Jotun's ruse to be discovered and for Thor to arrive. But Loki's contributions couldn't be mentioned without a snide remark on the _way_ he'd delayed the builder. And Loki hadn't actually done...the _things_ he was accused of doing with the horse.

“But that's not fair. Why don't you just tell them the truth?” she asked. It seemed like Loki's problem had a really obvious solution if even she could think of _that_ quickly. Explaining over and over again would have be better than everyone believing the rumours.

Loki shrugged. “I have. But it is much more complicated, and much less interesting than the falsehood. Besides,” he grinned,“I'm not known for telling the truth, especially if it would save my reputation.”

Though his grin looked genuine, Hildy didn't think Loki felt very pleased. “I think it's a good story,” she protested, which wasn't entirely a lie. It _was_ a good story, and was less crude than the other one, but Loki was right. It was nowhere near as memorable. “I enjoyed it.” She did her best to sound sincere and looked pointedly back her brothers. They had both relaxed when Loki started talking instead of snarling, and were leaning against Jör's neck while the amphithere dozed on the warm rocks.

Gunnar caught her eye. “I thought it was very impressive” he said solemnly, nodding.

He in turn nudged Hrolf, who quickly added, “Aye, much better than the one where you and the horse-”

“Thank-you,” Loki interrupted, holding up a hand, “for the sentiments, but you three are _terrible_ liars.” Sliding off the back of the rock so it was between him and them, he muttered, “By the Tree, I'm afraid to ask how you children know that story already.” Hrolf looked like he was about to open his mouth again, but Hildy shot a glare in his direction first (since he was too far way to kick). Sometimes she thought Hrolf had a worse filter for his mouth than Alaric after a few drinks.

Loki turned towards the side of the ravine, one hand resting on Jörmungandr's muzzle. “I have business at the palace. I should leave before anyone comes looking for me. I-” he glanced back at them out of the corner of his eye, “I am pleased we had a chance to speak.” His gaze didn't quite meet any of theirs before he turned away from them.

“Wait, Loki.” Gudrun piped up, reaching across the rock to grab Loki's hand.

The prince stopped and looked back at her. “Yes?” His expression was guarded. Hildy wondered what her sister was planning; she'd been oddly silent after the story.

“Isn't Slepnir the best horse in _all_ the nine realms?” Gudrun spread her free arm wide, as if encompassing the whole of Yggdrasil in a gesture. Her face was open and curious.

“ _I_ believe his abilities unparallelled, though there are some who would argue that point,” Loki answered, looking down at her with his brow slightly furrowed. Hildy felt just as confused. Everyone knew that Slepnir was the best horse, which was why he was the King's horse. 

Gudrun earnestly clasped his hand with both of her's. “But you made him with your own magic? By accident?”

Loki's lips quirked up. “Yes, I would say so. But the horses certainly helped.”

Gudrun seemed to mull this over for second, then she grinned brightly. “Can I learn to do that on purpose?”

A surprised laugh escaped Loki, and he smiled. A smile that was probably real this time. “Maybe when you're older.” Gently, he removed his hand from Gudrun's. “But right now, you and your siblings should take Jörmungandr out flying a bit more, then head back to your quarters.” With a final glance at the four of them, face now cheerful instead of wary, he disappeared up the wooded trail that led to the top of the ravine.

Rushing forward, Hildy gathered Gudrun in a hug and lifted her off the rock and onto the ground. Although she knew Loki often looked smug, he rarely looked happy. And her little sister had brought a smile to the prince's face with only a few questions.

“Come on, Gudrun. Let's wake Jörmungandr up so we can get him off the ground again.”

 

Loki rarely saw them anymore, though any anger between them had disappeared after Jör's flight. Sometimes Loki came by with Thor, or with Father and the rest of his friends, and even made his way down to the cavern a few times while they were with Jörmungandr. But Hildy once saw Gudrun summon golden sparks without snapping her fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear, Gudrun's gonna grow up to be mad scientist/magician. And since this is the Marvel universe, experimenting with magic/science turns you into the Hulk or Spider-Man or an eight-legged horse (instead of killing you). About Slepnir's mother's name, according Wikipedia Grani is the horse owned by the hero Sigurd, and is a descendant of Slepnir (and probably a male name but whatever). The rumours about Loki and Svaðilfari, and Loki's feelings on the subject, weren't actually supposed to happen. However, I encountered a bit of fridge logic when writing this chapter, because the children must have heard the original tale somewhere. Which meant it was well-known :\


	9. It never gets better anyway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki falls, then Loki returns, imprisoned for his crimes. Hildy doesn't know if talking to him is the right thing to do. And Jörmungandr is getting too large for his cavern.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, but this chapter is _really_ long. Also, it's pretty much angst and sadness from here on out, which means we're onto Part 3: Angst. And for the purposes of the fic, let's just pretend Asgard has some sort of organized school system or something. Because of that Thor prelude comic, I had to change a few bits of this chapter (mainly Loki's gag), though Odin still remains nicer than that comic showed him to be.

Thor was banished and Father was worried. Then Loki was king and Father was even more worried. Then Father left, and returned with Thor.

The Bifrost was destroyed.

Loki was dead.

 

She attended the funeral, where an ornate longboat was set aflame and cast into Asgard's sea. It burnt as it tumbled off the edge of the kingdom and into the stars.

The boat was empty.

Maybe its seared husk would find Loki's body amongst Yggdrasil's branches.

Hildy thought of the dead amphithere, and of what she remembered of Valhalla. As she heard the scornful mutters, doubting that Loki had died with honour like the Allfather claimed, she remembered what Loki had mentioned of his own place in the realms of the dead. Not destined for Valhalla.

At first Jörmungandr didn't seem to notice Loki's absence, though he did worry over any signs of their mourning. But after a few weeks, he grew morose. He would rumble questions at them in what Hildy presumed to be his dragon language, and Hildy wouldn't know how to answer. Eventually Gudrun threw her arms around Jör's neck and whispered, “Loki's dead, Jör. He's gone.” Jörmungandr must have understood, for he let out a roar (one quiet enough to be muffled by the forest before it reached the palace) and wrapped his great wings around them. It was Jörmungandr's closest imitation of a hug.

 

A year later Thor left.

Thor returned.

As did Loki.

She saw Loki once, briefly, on his way to the trial. She stood with her family in the crowded hall, nervous and hopeful all at one once about the prince's return. Because while the King had explained Loki's treachery in the final days before his fall, Hildy thought Loki must be happy to finally come home after so long away from his family and friends.

There was a commotion at the far end of the hall, mutterings interspersed with jeers. The noise spread down the hall, and in its wake came the princes.

Thor was standing tall and staring straight ahead, one hand resting on Mjolnir and the other at his brother's back, holding something curved and metallic. And Loki...

Loki's hands were shackled, and his eyes were mad and hateful and weary.

His perfectly coiffed appearance was gone. His face was scraped, his hair was ragged and wild and his clothes were no longer those of a prince. And yet he walked with his back stiff and his chin held high, as if he couldn't hear the murmurings and scorn thrown at him from all sides.

Hildy didn't know if she should fear or pity the man before her, led down the hall like an animal on a leash. The prince who was no longer a prince.

 

Loki was imprisoned. They'd heard that from Father.

Of course, they'd told Jörmungandr Loki was still alive (Hildy remembered that Loki said all dragon-like creature could learn the All-Tongue, though only dragons could speak it. Jörmungandr must have picked some words up by now). It was harder to explain why Loki didn't come to see him. Partly because they weren't entirely sure what Loki had _done_ on Midgard. Father said that Loki had gone mad, led an army against Midgard, had hurt the mortals and attempted to rule their realm. Hildy couldn't understand why anyone would want to rule the weakest of the realms, or shorten the already pitifully brief mortals' lives. It seemed cruel to hurt the poor Midgardians, because while they were numerous, they simply weren't as strong or as well armed as the Æsir. Hildy didn't know if they were powerful enough to fight back.

In the end, they just decided to say that Loki couldn't come anymore.

 

It was only when Gudrun remembered a line from Loki's third story, about finding the book of hidden passages, that the four of them decided to see Loki. Although Hildy still suspected most of the tale had been false, at one point Loki had mentioned an unused servant's staircase leading to an old storage room above the prison. It had probably used to be for off-duty guards. Loki had said that in one corner was a chute leading directly to the dungeons, in case extra guards needed to called in quickly. (He'd also said that trying to go up the chute, instead of down, would lead to a quick and painful death. Hildy wasn't sure if she believed him, but she wouldn't take any chances).

After nearly a whole afternoon of searching, Hildy was surprised when they found the staircase leading to the room and the chute, just as Loki had described. The sides of the hole had a faint glow to them, which Hildy figured must be magic to prevent people from coming up the chute (and hopefully not something to prevent children from going down).

Whatever the magic was, they managed to land safely at the bottom without too much noise. The dungeon was mostly empty, relying on magic rather than soldiers to guard its inside, and it currently held only one prisoner. Hildy led the way past the empty cells, their white, glaring light shining on the dark flagstones, to the one at the end.

She carefully rounded the stone column, the other three tiptoeing in her wake, and looked into the cell. Dressed in rough, loose clothes, Loki slumped against the corner of the left wall. He was staring straight at them, passive features morphing into surprise once they came into view. 

Hildy froze, the sudden reality of the situation crashing into her as her memory compared this Loki to the Loki of the before, the one who looked like a prince rather than a criminal. The Loki here looked defeated, eyes dark and appearance dishevelled (Hildy had rarely seen Loki with even a hair out of place). Somehow, he looked _older_. Though slightly more than a year had passed, Loki seemed aged. And weary. His bright mischief gone, replaced by anger and a hard gaze.

Taking her lead (and maybe just as nervous), her siblings stopped behind her, just in view of the cell. Apparently Loki didn't have her difficulties, since he jerked upward out of his slump. He made a movement like he was about to stand up, then thought better of it and instead leaned towards them. “What are you doing here?” he asked, words hissed out in a whisper. He flicked his gaze towards the entrance of the dungeon, though it was hidden by the corner of his cell. “This is no place for children.”

Hildy swallowed. Her mouth was dry and Loki was right. They shouldn't be down here. “Jör misses you,” she squeaked out. That wasn't what she was supposed to start with. She was supposed to say something eloquent, about how they were glad he wasn't dead, and ask about what he'd done and why.

For a second Loki looked taken aback, then he buried his face in his hands and muttered something low and angry. Raising his face again, he levelled a blank stare at them. “Do not speak of him here. Now go. You should not be consorting with prisoners.”

This was not going as planned (though there had been very little planning in the first place). “But-”

“Go!” Loki snarled, pounding one fist against the clear wall of his cell. Hildy flinched back, and felt Gudrun's hands clutching the back of her tunic. There something in Loki's face and in his white-knuckled hand, something tightly coiled and barely under control, that hadn't been there before his fall. Hildy wondered if it was the madness Father told her about.

“We can't,” Gudrun said in a small voice just behind Hildy. Her sister peeked her head around Hildy's side. “We went down the chute you told us about. We don't know how to get back.”

“Unless we can climb back up it,” Gunnar piped up. “We could-”

“No. Not unless you wish the whole palace to know of your escapades.” Loki's voice was not quite a growl, but it was still harsh. Loki tipped his head back against the wall behind him and closed his eyes. “Just go to the guards. We will all get in trouble, but your parents will be kind and there is little else they can do me.” Loki cracked open one of his eyes and grinned at them. Loki didn't even try to pretend the smile was pleased.

 

First the guards yelled at them, then their parents, then Father wanted to go yell at Loki but Mother held him back. Then Thor came by and told them to stay away from Loki, because the prince they'd known was long gone, and the man in prison was dangerous. Thor looked so heartbroken as he spoke, words weighed with a nearly palpable sorrow, that Hildy wanted to comfort him. But there was nothing for her to say.

When their parents asked how they managed to enter the dungeon, Gudrun spoke up first, saying that since they were small enough, they had managed to hide in the shadows and sneak past the guards. A sympathetic guard had opened the prison door for them, and of course none of them could remember what the man looked like. The lie seemed to satisfy their parents, and they were sent to bed without supper (a punishment Father believed was cruel but necessary).

They didn't know what, if anything, happened to Loki.

 

They were in their lessons when it happened. Gudrun heard about it first, since she had fewer lessons. Hildy and her brothers didn't hear the news until Alaric came to get them after they were done for the afternoon.

Jörmungandr was getting too big. She knew it, they all knew it, they just didn't know what to _do_ about it (Loki would've know, but they couldn't expect any help from him now). They couldn't just send him away. He was eating larger animals from around the base of the mountain rather than the forest, but he would need larger hunting grounds. Hildy had thought it a blessing from the Norns that Jör had yet to be discovered, considering his proximity to the palace.

It turned out the Norns had little to do with it.

When each of their tutors finally let them and the other palace children go, Alaric was waiting breathlessly by the door. Usually Alaric would escort them back to their rooms, so Mother could give them something to eat before they were free for the afternoon. Or in Altrea's and Arngrim's case, before going out again for medical training and sword practice, respectively. Today, Alaric was wearing his hunting gear, and his sword was strapped to his back. Pulling them away from their friends, he ushered the five of them down the hall. Before any of them could ask about his haste, he started talking.

“An ampithere attacked one of the villages,” he explained, nearly dragging Hrolf behind him. “It was spotted killing some peasant's goats, then as the peasant sent for warriors, the beast tried to suffocate him. When the warriors finally arrived, the dumb thing tried to approach them head on.” Alaric chuckled, and Hildy felt a cold knot form in her stomach. Surely it was another poor amipthere? Their Jör knew to stay away from other people. “The beast eventually flew off when one of the warriors nicked it in the side,” Alaric continued. “They're sending out hunting parties, and Father says I can come after I take you back home.” He grinned down at them, and Hildy felt her gorge rise. She glanced at her younger brothers, their eyes wide and scared, looking at her for direction.

“Alaric! Do you know what the amphithere looked like?” Hildy asked, tugging one of her brother's hand and trying to look curious instead of worried. She was sure her face was much too pale, but Alaric didn't seem to notice.

“They said it was a young male, I think.” He frowned as he thought. “Probably not long out of its fledgling stage, but old enough to give people trouble. Great green wings and paler scales. Oh, and white fur.”

Hildy felt her breath catch, which was not very convenient when nearly jogging to keep up. She choked back her fear, trying to reassure herself that she would check on Jörmungandr soon. And he would be safe, lazing in the afternoon sun with Gudrun as he waited for the rest of them. Just because this amphithere sounded exactly like Jörmungandr, it didn't mean it _was_ him.

But Mother wouldn't allow them out them of their quarters, at least not without a guard. She knew they went outside most afternoons, and didn't trust them to stay within sight of the palace, where they could be safe from any rampaging dragons or other beasts. Even Hildy's arguments couldn't change her mind.

Gudrun was curled by the window, face turned to the view of golden spires and edges of green. When Hildy sat down beside her, Gudrun leaned her tear-streaked face against Hildy's shoulder. Father had already told her the news.

Hildy didn't know where Gunnar and Hrolf went.

To Hildy's relief, when Father returned he had no news of the amphithere's whereabouts.

But that was only the first day.

The next morning the hounds were sent out, to figure out where the amphithere had come from, but they could only follow the scent a certain distance before they became inexplicably confused; not as if they'd lost the scent, or the amphithere had taken to wing, but as if the trail went off in several directions at once. At first, Father told them as they gathered around the dinner table, the hunting parties thought the amphithere had simply passed that direction several times. Until someone decided to ask Heimdall if he could see where the amphithere had disappeared to.

Heimdall couldn't see it at all. He hadn't seen it attack the village, and he could see no trace of it in all of Asgard. And only one person had the power to obscure Heimdall's gaze.

The word went out, even to Hildy cooped up in her rooms: Loki had brought a beast into Asgard. He had endangered its people. He was just as depraved before his fall as afterwards (“ _just like I'd said_ ”, “ _I always knew he was wicked_ ”, “ _had said as much to his face_ ”, Hildy heard whispered in the halls and at the feasts). And every word sent guilt wracking through her body. She could see the shame on Gunnar and Hrolf's faces, and the quiet anger in Gudrun's. But none of them dared speak out.

Mages were sent out with the warriors and hounds, uncovering layers of magic meant to confuse and conceal. The magicians couldn't unravel it, but they could track it to its source. Hildy was on edge that day, Gudrun on the verge of tears. Surely Jörmungandr would've flown away somewhere safer, somewhere farther, when the four of them stopped coming around.

Hildy had never been so relieved to see her Father disappointed as when he returned that day with a dejected Alaric in tow. The mages had traced the magic to a cavern (their cavern) in the forest (“So close to the palace! What had that madman been thinking,” Father had ranted and shook his head). There they had discovered a tangled nest of spells and illusions the mages could barely unravel long enough to let the warriors attempt to track the creature. But the trail was old. The creature was long gone, along with any hope finding it.

Hildy silently praised Jör's sense of preservation, even as she felt a great emptiness settle inside her. The four of them (five, if she wanted to count Loki) might never see Jörmungandr again. He could be dead for all she knew. She hoped to the Norns that he wasn't.

Mother finally decided to let them out of their quarters unsupervised once they heard that the amphithere was gone, though she was still wary about them playing in the forests around the palace. But Hildy had other plans first.

“We need to talk to talk to the King,” she whispered to her three gathered siblings. She had brought them to a corner of the gardens meant for night-blooming flowers, so it was deserted just around noon. “We have tell him Jör wouldn't hurt anyone, and Loki was just protecting him.” She tamped down her nervousness. “We have to tell him we found the amphithere first and helped raise Jör.”

Hrolf looked down at the ground. “But then we'll get punished, and Loki's already in prison.”

Hildy punched his shoulder. “It was our fault,” she hissed. “We can't pass the blame on someone else.”

“Well,” Gunnar butted in, “we can say that Loki helped. _But_ ,” he added when Hildy glared at him, “I agree. We shouldn't take the coward's way out.”

“I suppose you're right,” Hrolf sighed.

“I think we should talk to Loki,” Gudrun said abruptly. Hildy stared at her, but even with three pairs of eyes on her Gudrun didn't flinch. “Someone must've spoken to him by now, and he hasn't given us up. He probably has a reason.”

“But if we talk to him, we still don't know how to get back out again,” Gunnar protested.

Gudrun stuck her chin out. “Then I'll go alone and get caught, and the rest of you can stay at the top of the chute.”

“No, I'll go,” Hildy said. While Gudrun always seemed to know what to say to Loki, she couldn't let her little sister get in trouble. “It doesn't make sense for all of us to get caught, and if they find all four of us down there again they might get suspicious.” When three mouths opened to argue, she added, “And I'm the eldest here, so it's my responsibility.” Which persuaded them with only a little bit of grumbling.

By the time they made it from the garden to the room above the prison, Hildy still hadn't convinced herself that this was a good idea. But she slid down the chute, her siblings crowding close.

The prison was exactly the same as before, except this time Hildy didn't creep. She walked straight down the hall, her stride perhaps a bit more hesitant than normal, until she came to the cell at the end.

Just as before, Loki was looking at her, but he didn't look surprised. He was in the same clothes, and his hair was just as disarrayed. The shadows under his eyes were deeper. However, instead huddling in a corner, he was sitting cross-legged at the front of his cell.

“I suppose I should have expected this,” he said, a slight smirk on his lips. Hildy wondered how Loki had learned to smile so easily when he was anything but happy.

“So you know what happen then? With Jörmungandr?” Hildy asked, coming to the base of the steps that led up to the cell. She wasn't sure if she wanted to get any closer.

Loki inclined his head, the smile still playing about his lips. “It would difficult not to, what with the hunting parties coming down here, ranting to me about dragons and amphitheres and my boundless wickedness.” Loki's smile grew. “They wanted me give up Jörmungandr's location, but I told them the forest was quite a long way from my cell. They left rather put out, I think.”

“So you don't know where he is?” That had been one of the question they'd decided on, even if they all knew it was far-fetched.

Just as she expected, though it still hurt to have her hopes dashed, Loki shook his head. “No child, I do not.” He tilted his head, looking almost bored. “Is that all you wished to ask? It's just as unwise for you to be down here as before.”

Now it was Hildy's turn to shake her head. “No, we wanted...we wanted to know why. Why you haven't-”

“Why I have not given you four up as the culprits to the ampthithere's existence in the woods? Or at least accomplices? Maybe I should ask the question, why have you four not given yourselves up?” His voice wasn't accusing, and his face was blank except for mild interest.

Hildy really thought she should be the one asking questions here, but she answered anyway. “We were going to, but Gudrun thought we should ask first. Just in case.” In case of what, she wasn't sure.

“Mmm. A smart girl, your sister.” Loki leaned forward. “Can you think of any reasons?”

“Um...we might get in trouble?” Did Loki care about that anymore? Did he care in the first place?

Loki rolled his eyes. “I meant besides the obvious. Clearly _I_ couldn't tell anyone, for they would never believe me, and they would wonder why I would stoop so low as to accuse children of villainy. If you told them, they still wouldn't accept the truth and you would be cautioned on the dangers of protecting me. On still trusting and holding sympathy for me. Or, a second outcome, where they do believe you. To an extent. They believe you _think_ you helped me harbour a dangerous beast in Asgard, but I would be charged with somehow exerting my influence over you from within this cell. Perhaps even playing with your minds for some nefarious aims. _Especially_ considering how much you children insist on visiting these dungeons recently. So tell me, which option would you prefer?” Loki's voice didn't rise, and his smile didn't waver. But his eyes were wild, shining over-bright with something that Hildy knew was madness. Hildy found herself taking a step back, though she did not remember telling her feet to move.

Eyes flicking to her feet with the movement, Loki slowly leaned back, resting one hand on the ground behind him with his palm on the ground. “Personally, I prefer out current option,” he continued with much less intensity, “which only has me scorned for consorting with beasts before my fall, rather than corrupting children as well.”

“Oh,” said Hildy, the sound coming out much quieter than she meant it to. She swallowed and tried again. “But they-” she stopped, trying to figure out a flaw in Loki's thinking, in his estimation of Asgard's people. Nothing came to mind. In fact the more thought about it, the more convinced she became that he was right.

“You have your answer. I think it's time for you to leave,” Loki said, disrupting her thoughts. “And _please_ try not to come back”

Hildy wasn't finished yet. Maybe they couldn't find Jörmungandr again, but there was one more question she and her siblings had decided to ask. “But what about all those spells you put on the cavern? And Jörmungandr?”

Loki narrowed his eyes. “Have I not already told you to go?”

“But without you, he would have been found when he was still a child.” Hildy persisted. Tentatively, she began walking up the steps to Loki's cell. “He would have been killed. We were the ones who brought you to his mother. You didn't have to do anything, but you protected him. So you must have cared about him.” She left the implication of the past tense unsaid. She knew Loki would pick up on it. But she wanted him to challenge her assumption, tell her that he hadn't really changed that much. To prove he wasn't as heartless as the everyone said, and never had been.

Loki's jaw clenched. “Unfortunately, dragons and their kind will imprint on the first being to feed them, until they become adults themselves,” he answered tersely “And Jörmungandr still has a few more years to go before he matures. Like with Slepnir, he was my responsibility, and I his caretaker.” He stood up, looming over her even from within his cage. “There, you have all your answers. Now _get out._ ”

But Jör couldn't just have been a _chore_ to Loki, Hildy was sure of it. Otherwise Loki wouldn't have spent so much time with Jör, helping him and teaching him. Nor would he come to watch Jör fly after yelling at them-“Wait,” Hildy, said slowly, a memory surfacing. Shocked, glistening eyes and a stack of books on a table. And more of Loki's secrets. She straightened to her full height (which wasn't very tall next to Loki, who seemed to have grown an extra foot in his year of absence), and met Loki's cold gaze. “What about when he was sick? If he was your responsibility, why didn't you come out?” She knew why, but she wanted to hear Loki say it.

Confusion flashed on Loki's face before he abruptly stilled. For an instance, he stared straight past her, eyes wide and lips parted, an emotion in his eyes besides distant anger or feigned amusement. Then the expression was gone, replaced by bared teeth and a glare. “I have no desire to answer question you have already asked.” he growled. “Go before someone else comes down here and berates me about this whole charade.”

Hildy couldn't stop now, though. Everyone kept saying that Loki was heartless, dangerous, mad. Hildy knew he was mad, and he was locked up because he was dangerous, but that didn't mean was heartless. If his heart could hurt, then he still had one. “You were crying that day,” she insisted. The man before her didn't look like one who could shed tears, his hardened, cold eyes burying the emotion she'd just glimpsed. “Why?”

Something snapped in Loki's eyes. His whole body went rigid, his fingers curled, and he snarled like a wild animal in a corner. “Because I was fool then, pathetic, weak, and _needy_ ,” he spat. “A pitiful child who thought he had a place here. But if you are looking for that shade, Hildy, if you think you can have your _prince_ back, then I suggest you turn back now. Because there is _nothing left_.” As abruptly as it had come the anger disappeared, replaced by a sneer and eyes unfeeling and distant. “That _incident_ you wish me to speak of? It was _nothing_. Nothing worth speaking of and nothing-” Loki cut off, whipping his head towards the entrance of the dungeon. With a sharp intake of breath, Loki turned back to her, panic in his eyes. “Hide,” he hissed, crouching down to her level. “Anywhere. Quickly!”

Heart racing from Loki's outburst and mind trying to keep up with his emotions, Hildy didn't even think to question Loki's urgency as she reacted. She scrambled down the steps, looking around for somewhere to hide and wondering what Loki was so worried about. Then she mentally kicked herself as she remembered that Loki's cell was at the end, so to her right was ample space beside Loki's cell. As she ducked around the corner she heard the prison door scrape open.

Oh. That explained Loki's alarm. Now she wished she had chosen a better hiding place, because one look around the corner and she would be caught, though hopefully Loki would keep them occupied. And if the conversation was boring, she could think about Loki's words, once the fright wore off. Because whatever had happened, it hadn't sounded like _nothing._ Not if Loki reacted like that.

Once the door slammed shut again, she heard only one pair of footsteps, heavy and slow. Almost tired, reluctant. They stopped, as Hildy expected, outside Loki's cell. For a moment there was silence. 

Then Loki said, in a voice both smug and bitter, “Greetings, Allfather.”

Hildy clasped a hand over her mouth, muffling a gasp. The _King_ was down here, right around the corner. No wonder Loki wanted her to hide.

“Loki...” The Allfather broke off and sighed, and Hildy could hardly believe the weariness in the King's tone. He'd always sounded so strong to her. “I heard you speaking before I entered.” 

“Did you now?” Loki's voice held nothing but flat curiosity. “Perchance I was practising my speeches to the fools who fancy themselves interrogators. Or maybe I was talking to myself. You have heard that I am mad, have you not?”

“If you will not answer me truthfully on such matters, then perhaps you can spare me your lies on others. You know why I have come.”

There was no answer from Loki, but he must have made some sort of sign of agreement because the King continued, “Do you know where he is, Loki?”

Loki chuckled. “This again? I have no knowledge of the creature's whereabouts.”

“So you have said.” The King was silent for a moment. Then, “Was your protection akin to Fenrir's situation?”

“This has _nothing_ to do withFenrir,” Loki snapped.

“You raised that wolf from a pup,” the King said, sounding both resigned and accusatory, “and I doubt this amphithere is yet old enough to be separated from his mother. If you know where he is, I can give him a home some place far from Asgard, where he will not be hunted. If I provide him with a glamour and protection, there could be a suitable place for him in Midgard.”

“Oh yes, we both know how you _love_ placing glamours on unsuspecting beasts,” Loki snarled.

The King made an exasperated noise in the back of his throat. “Loki, I wish to help you. Not all dragons and amphitheres are dangerous as the populace believes. But there are nevertheless some who can be vicious. Do you believe your charge approached the village out of naivety? Or was he like Fenrir, and would have attacked without prompting?”

Hildy had trouble following most the conversation. Who was Fenrir? And what had Loki's comment meant? More to the point, if the King actually wanted to help Jör, then why wasn't Loki saying anything in Jör's favour? Contrary her better judgement, Hildy peeked around the corner of the stone column she was pressed up against. Maybe if saw something, she's have a better idea of what was going on.

The Allfather was standing at the base of the stairs, looking slightly down in the cell, which meant Loki was probably sitting again. There were more lines on the Allfather's face than Hildy could ever remember seeing, but he still looked imperious. She couldn't see Loki from her angle.

“I would not know.” Loki spoke airily from inside his cell. “I was not there.”

No, no, no, what was Loki saying? Hildy wanted to dash out from her hiding place, screaming that Jör wouldn't have done anything wrong. But what if Loki planned something to say to help Jörmungandr, and she ruined it? Or, a little voice in her mind whispered, what if Loki no longer cared about Jörmungandr? If Loki didn't say anything by the time the King left, Hildy decided, then Hildy would tell him herself.

A disappointed frown tugged at the King's features. “You cannot play ignorant, Loki. I know your nature. There are creatures no other would consider as anything but beasts to slaughter, yet you have a proclivity for taking them in, uncaring if they do naught but harm.” The King looked almost hesitant as he continued. “Is this creature one of those?”

After a moment, Loki spoke. “You cannot change a monster's nature, _Allfather_. No matter how you raise it. I thought _you_ of all people would know this.” His voice was bitter. But underneath the spite, Hildy though she heard something else, something flat and hopeless.

The Allfather must have heard it too, because he bent his head, sorrow clear on his face even from Hildy's position. “Loki, the Jotun...” he started saying, raising his head and looking to the side. But Hildy didn't get to hear what he was planning on saying about the Jotun (or why he talking about them in the first place), because he looked to his right side, where Hildy's face was sticking out from behind the pillar.

A gasp escaped her lips as the Allfather's eye met her's, and Hildy fought the urge to duck back behind the corner. It was too late to hide now.

“Gunnhild? Hildegund's daughter?” The Allfather asked, quickly striding towards her. “What are you doing here?”

Hildy fully came out from behind the pillar, swallowing nervously. “I was just-I just wanted to talk to him.” She motioned vaguely at Loki's cell.

Resting one hand on her shoulder, the Allfather turned sharply to Loki. “What were you saying to her?” he demanded.

“She thinks she can help me. Save the prince from the monster. I was simply discouraging her of the idea.” Loki's voice snide floated from just out of her view. “You should take her home before she gets hurts.”

His mouth a thin line, the King clasped her shoulder and led her forward. As they passed Loki's cell, Hildy glanced in. Loki was sitting splayed against his bed in the centre of his cell. His face was blank as she caught his eye.

“I will speak with your parents about this.” The King said, staring straight forward. “You have been caught down here before, have you not?” The King didn't sound very angry, but Hildy couldn't meet his eye and instead nodded at the floor. She only hoped her siblings got back to their quarters on time, sparing them any punishment.

Scared as she was, though, Hildy knew this was her last chance to speak to the Allfather. To tell him that Jörmungandr was _good_. Even if she wasn't believed, she had to try.

They were halfway to the prison doors, Hildy ready to launch into a convincing plea, when Loki spoke again. “Allfather?”

The King stopped and turned, and Hildy with him. Hardly daring to breath, Hildy waited. Was Loki was finally going to help? His voice gave nothing away, and she couldn't see him.

“Yes?” The King answered, wary.

“You will find Jörmungandr-the amphithere-at the Pools of Hørdum, just beyond the mountain Thruthvanger. He will give you no trouble.”

Hildy gaped. He had _lied_ to her. About _Jörmungandr_. She had helped raise Jör, she was responsible enough to know of Jör's whereabouts. And now the King would find and him and take him away and she would never see him again-

“Thank-you Loki. I will take care of him.” The King sounded grateful. She could barely feel his hand as he tugged her forward again.

She felt numb. Tears welled up as she stumbled to the door. The King swore that Jör would be safe, but why didn't Loki tell _her_ about the Pools? He could've told her now and waited to tell the Allfather. Then at least she-and Gudrun and Hrolf and Gunnar-could say goodbye. They could tell Jör that everything would be alright and they could at least _see_ him one last time.

She wanted to run back to the cell, scream at Loki, or tell the Allfather the truth. Maybe he would take pity on them, and just let them _talk_ to Jör. But she said nothing, because what if he though her delusional, like Loki said? Or she just made things worse?

Furiously trying to hold back tears, she stared at the ground as the Allfather opened the prison door, ushered her past the startled guards, and slammed the door shut. Leaving the dungeon's only occupant alone once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm making the Æsir look bad, but they aren't evil, they're just ignorant. Sorta like their feelings towards the Jotnar, except instead of racism it's like if your neighbour had a tiger in their backyard and no matter how much they insisted that the tiger was trained and wouldn't hurt anyone, you still wouldn't let your kids anywhere near that thing. So not actually like with the Jotnar but anyway. Loki was supposed to talk this out and have feelings, but like always he decided to bottle those feelings up instead and be dick. Screw you too Loki. The prison layout came from studying [these](http://takemetothedungeons.tumblr.com/post/48684096609/thor-the-dark-world-trailer-a-fight-that) [gifs](http://borrowedbedroom.tumblr.com/post/49263282222/you-must-be-truly-desperate-to-come-to-me-for) ad nauseam. According to Wikipedia, Hørdum is a village in Denmark where a stone depicting a legend about Thor and Jörmungandr was found. And if you're wondering why Odin let people continue to think dragons are evil in this fic, well, he didn't really do anything about the people's attitudes towards the Jotnar. Even though he adopted one. And as King, you'd think he'd be the one with the most power to do _something_ to curb the rest of Asgard's racism.


	10. Family Matters 3: So why should I care 'Bout a bad reputation anyway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Odin remembers remembers an incident with his son, and Frigga remembers how she tried to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I wrote this before the Thor Prelude comic came out, and I'm not re-writing it. I'll stick with my fan version of Odin for now, thank-you very much. You know, where Odin _actually_ continues to think of Loki as his son? And tries to understand instead of rejecting him? So Odin will seem OOC and contradictory to his attitude in that comic. But I'm gonna keep the Odin that wants his son back, and plans to help him. I just hope that other version of Odin doesn't continue in the movie.

Odin Borson has had a long life, and that life was full of mistakes. Some small, some unimaginably large. Odin knows he has made far too many of the latter with his younger son.

 

“We must tell them,” Frigga had insisted, continuing their discussion from the previous night as she barricaded his departure from their chambers. She stood strong and proud in the early morning light, everything from the set of her chin to hardness of her gaze evidence of her resolution. 

But Odin answered, as he always did, “They are not ready yet.” It was an argument they repeated every century or so, and every time they decided to put it off another century.

“Then _when_ will they be ready?” Frigga snapped. “Thor will be coronated in less than a decade! If they are not ready by then, will they ever be?” She clasped her hands around one of Odin's, her eyes both adamant and beseeching. “At least tell Loki, if you cannot tell Thor. He should know the truth.”

The truth. They always referred to it as “the truth” in their quarrels. “I will consider it,” Odin replied after a moment, drawing away to grab his helm from its stand.

“And again you will preserve their ignorance?” Her voice held an edge like the dagger at her side.

Odin brushed non-existent dust from his helm (the servants always kept it polished and unblemished). “I will draw them together for a private noon-day meal. It will be just the four of us, no attendants. I will have made my decision by then.”

The room as silent as Frigga considered his proposal, then turned and stalked out the door.

They both knew what the outcome would be, but had Odin given his word. He _would_ consider it. If his boys were ready.

He sent out his ravens, Huginn to Thor and Muninn to Loki. He could not go to them personally, as he had his duties to attend to, but his ravens could be his eyes and ears. They would reveal if his boys were prepared.

As instructed, the birds returned as the last petitioner departed for the morning. They settled on either side of the Hliðskjálf, and Odin motioned to Huginn to show him of his eldest. The raven fluttered his wings then hopped to Odin's shoulder, and Odin saw with a bird's eye view.

Thor was in one of the sparring grounds with his friends, Lady Sif and the Warriors Three. The five of them were practising with battleaxes. Odin wondered why they felt the need to improve with such a weapon, when he recalled Thor describing his latest adventure with his companions and Loki, where the group had encountered a troop of axe-wielding svartálfarbandits. Though Odin had heard nothing but acclaim for Thor's prowess, evidently Thor wished to better himself with weapons other than Mjolnir, great as the war hammer was.

Odin was pleased. It was always an asset to be well versed in all manner of weapons.

Huginn had settled on a tree branch near the sparring ring, close enough to hear the combatants exchange both playful barbs and earnest advice. Odin noted with approval his son's skill.

But Thor's aptitude with a weapon wasn't what Odin was looking for.

Eventually the bout ended, and Thor and his companions gathered at the edge of the ring closest to Huginn, catching their breath and discussing the match. Nothing remarkable stood out, except the many compliments directed towards Thor. He accepted their praise and in turn gave some of his own. There was no sign of humility in his son's comments, but he gave fair credit to his friends' accomplishments.

Then Lord Fandral joked, “Now all we need is handful of frost giants with battleaxes, and we will have fought every size of axe-wielding enemies,” and chortled.

“Not that those beasts would use axes,” Thor snorted. “And if they did, I would be all too happy to tear the blades from their hands and show the monsters how a true Ás fights.”

And there were those words: monster, beast. Odin had never called the Jotuns as such, but hatred of the race was everywhere. Especially in those who had fought in the war.

No, Thor was not ready for the truth, but Odin reminded himself to talk with his eldest about old enemies and peace treaties.

With a squawk Huginn flew off, leaving Thor surrounded by his faithful companions, laughing and readying themselves for another match. Odin opened his eye as the scene dissipated.

Frigga would accept his argument for keeping Thor uninformed. They couldn't take the chance that Thor would reject Loki. Odin couldn't tell if he was satisfied or disappointed with his conclusion, but there was always time for the truth later.

Turning to his other side, Odin gestured for Muninn, and the raven flew to his shoulder, showing Odin his youngest from a low, leafy branch in one of the outer courtyards.

Loki was surrounded as well, but not by friends. A group of five young men, warriors, had him backed up against the wall. From his angle, Odin could only see a few of the men's faces, scowling in anger. Loki was paler than usually, but if he was afraid it did not otherwise show on his face.

“You disgraceful, spineless _coward_ ,” snarled one of them, grabbing Loki by his collar and shoving him against the wall. Odin winced at the sound Loki's head made against the stone. “Skulking and sneaking about, _hiding_ behind your brother.” As Loki opened his mouth, the man rammed a fist into his jaw then threw Loki towards the other men.

Breath caught in his throat, Odin felt his hands clench upon the arms of his throne. If Odin had been there himself, if he had not sent out those blasted birds-well, even then he may have gone to Thor first, and it would be too late by the time he found Loki. And was that not how it always was, between him and Loki?

Odin watched as another man snatched Loki by the front of his tunic. “Your family should be ashamed to have raised such a _weak_ thing like you,” he spat. “Helpless in a real fight, so you use trickery rather than facing us as any _man_ would.” He punched Loki in the stomach, and as Loki gasped for breath the man shoved him to the ground.

Wiping a hand across his mouth, Loki stared mildly up at the men around him. “Helpless in a fight? About as helpless as you were last night, would you say?” A grin split Loki's face until a foot smashed into his ribs.

“You! Pathetic! Little! Worm!” the man who first grabbed Loki howled, punctuating each word with a strike. “I knew it was you!” As the other men fell upon Loki while shouting more insults, Odin glanced around the extent of Muninn's vision. Surely someone would enter the courtyard, or hear the noise.

Briefly, he wondered what Loki did to enrage the warriors, but put the thought out of his head. Whatever Loki had done, surely it didn't deserve this. He focused back on Loki just a voice called out, “Stop! Unhand my brother!”

Just down the path stood Thor, Mjolnir in hand and rage in eyes. The young warriors froze and stared, Loki's shoulders lifted partway off the ground in one of the men's grip.

“I said away from him, cowards! Or would you prefer to face _me_ in fight?” Thor roared and brandished his hammer. A faint boom of thunder rolled across the clear sky.

Slowly the men stood up and backed away, the one holding Loki dropping him unceremoniously to the ground. One by one they left the courtyard, Thor glaring at them as the passed. Odin tried to memorize their faces through Muninn's gaze. The horse-master could use some extra workers for a month or two.

Thor walked over his brother as Loki sat up, eyes on departing warriors' backs. As Thor came to a stop over Loki he looked down at his brother, face emotionless. Loki glanced up at Thor, then around the empty courtyard, and finally back at Thor again.

“Be a good brother and help me up,” Loki rasped, then started laughing as Thor did nothing but stare. Still giggling to himself, Loki used the wall for support to pull himself to his feet before he slumped against the stone. “An adequate performance, if I say so myself. Thank-you brother,” Loki gasped out, his laughter abating. He gestured towards his brother, and Thor, or rather his magic-formed illusion, disappeared in burst of golden light. “But you mustn't come to my rescue too often,” he said to the air, tipping his back against the wall and staring up at the sky. “People might get suspicious.”

He waved another hand a large mirror appeared in front of him, floating just above Loki's waist and extending to head height. Raising a hand to his face, Loki carefully examined his cuts and bruises. With a shimmer of gold, the injuries disappeared under a glamour and Loki's face looked as unblemished as before.

As Loki blinked the mirror out of existence, a wind blew through the tree and Muninn's branch shook. The raven shuffled his feet and flapped his wings to keep his balance, feathers ruffling against each other. Loki's head snapped around to face the tree, a flash of light appearing in his hand as his eyes searched the branches around Munnin's perch. Odin knew the raven was standing stock still, hiding behind whatever protection the leaves had to offer, but Loki's gaze still landed upon the bird. Something like shock entered his eyes, bleeding quickly into worry. Then Muninn started pecking at the bark like a normal raven, keeping Loki in view with one eye. Loki hissed quietly to himself and looked away.

Pushing himself off the wall, Loki made his way in the opposite direction of the other men, in the direction of his rooms. His gait was somewhat stilted, but otherwise Loki seemed as immaculate as always.

Once Loki was out of sight inside the palace, Munnin took to wing and the vision disappeared. Odin put his head in his hands. No, today was no time to inform Loki of his origins. But he would have a talk with his youngest son. About defending himself, or maybe restraining his mischief against the warriors.

And he decided it would be for the best if he kept Loki's morning a secret from Frigga.

 

The family still gathered for a private noon meal, though Odin slowly shook his head to Frigga's unasked question before the boys arrived. Her lips thinned and she looked away, fingers clenched, but she nodded tersely. Odin knew she would demand an explanation later, but this outcome was only to be expected.

Thor ate as he always did, with large mouthfuls in between describing his plans for his next hunting trip. Loki picked at his food, chewing slowly and carefully. Which was not abnormal for Loki, but watching out of his eye, Odin could see his youngest was being more fastidious than normal with his chewing.

The routine barely lasted through the first course. Frigga's attention began wavering from Thor's explanations, glancing worriedly over at Loki.

“Loki, are you wearing a glamour?” she asked once Thor finished detailing the first leg of the planned journey. Loki froze, fork halfway to his mouth, and Thor looked curiously over at his brother. 

“Frigga...” Odin started, thinking maybe he could warn her (how to do so without garnering suspicion from his sons had not yet occurred to him), but his wife gave him a sharp glance then stretched a hand out to her son's face. Loki drew away, but not enough to avoid his mother's reach. Gently, she removed Loki's glamour with her own magic, revealing the injuries Odin had seen so carefully masked earlier.

With a gasp, Frigga drew back, putting a hand to her mouth. “Loki, what happened?”

she asked.

“Who did this to you.” Thor growled, clenching his fists, dangerously close to breaking his fork. “I'll-”

“It's fine, really,” Loki said, putting a hand over one of his mother's sending a reassuring glance at Thor. “I was just sparring earlier. With Sif. You know she never holds back with me.” He flashed at grin at Frigga, stretching the cut on his lip.

Odin knew this was not going to turn out well. He opened his mouth to draw attention away from Loki and his lie, but Thor spoke first.

“Sif was with me all morning, Loki. She said nothing of sparing with you.” Thor's face was a mixture of confusion and anger. Frigga, who had seemed relieved, looked towards Loki again.

“Maybe she doesn't have tell _you_ everything,” Loki snapped and stood up, pushing his chair away from the table with more force than was necessary. “Excuse me, but I have other business to attend to.” He turned around and strode towards the private room's exit.

“Loki, please,” Frigga called after him, then began standing up herself when Loki closed the door behind him without glancing back. “I'll talk to him.”

“No, I will do it,” Odin said, wearily getting up from the table. Thor looked like he about to argue, so he added, “Just me, Thor.” Though Thor frowned, he sat back, his hands still curled into fists.

Odin caught up with Loki halfway to Loki's rooms, just as his son was about to slip behind another corner. Loki must have known Odin was behind him, but he refused to slow.

“Loki!” Odin shouted, bringing the boy to a halt before he slid out of slight. Reluctantly, Loki turned around as Odin closed some of the distance between them so they could talk without shouting down the corridor. Fortunately it was deserted, as most denizens of the palace were eating.

“Yes, Father?” Loki's face was carefully blank, body tense as if ready to flee. His glamour was back in place.

“Who gave you those injuries? What happened? And do not lie to me,” he added firmly before Loki opened his mouth. “I want the truth.” He wanted to see how far Loki would take his charade.

Loki fidgeted, then looked at the ground. “I-I was practising with some of the guards.” Swallowing, Loki raised his head to meet Odin's eye. “I know I'm not as good as Thor at fighting, but I thought if I trained in secret, without other warriors interfering, then I could improve. And I-” Loki looked back at the ground, “-I wanted to impress you,” he muttered, the very image of an embarrassed boy admitting a secret to his father.

It was well told lie, perfectly performed, right down to Loki's glances out of the corner of his eye as if judging Odin's reaction. More likely judging if he bought the lie.

Looking back, Odin could see himself then. A tired old man, nowhere near as tired as he was now, with no idea how to deal with his youngest son. So many mistakes made, which only served to drive Loki into the madness in which he now dwelled. In his minds' eye, Odin righted those mistakes. Odin told Loki he knew he was lying. Odin said he knew what really happened and said it didn't matter that Loki was not as good as his brother with a weapon or with his fists. And Loki would look up, startled and wary and hopeful, and Odin would close the distance between them. He would place his hands on his son's shoulder, and tell Loki he was not ashamed of him. Odin would tell Loki that he was loved, and take him to the healers and then they would talk, just the two of them. About anything, anything Loki wanted to talk about with his father. And Odin would listen and give advice or encouragement or conversation. Anything Loki needed.

In reality, he only said, “I see,” a cold, hard knot of disappointment and worry settling in his stomach. “Try to be more careful next time you practice.”

Loki nodded, eyes still downcast. Part of his lie, or real shame? Perhaps a bit of both.

“And if you do wish to report to the healers, then see your mother in her weaving room. She will help you with your injuries.”

Loki nodded again, took a deep breath as if he wanted to say something, and then a sharp cough sounded behind Odin. He turned, and behind him stood a young guard.

“Allfather,” the guard said, looking uncomfortable, “Heimdall says that when you are finished with petitioners for the day, he has some reports from the outer realms for you.”

“Inform Heimdall I look forward to his reports. You are dismissed,” Odin replied. The guard bowed deeply before leaving and Odin looked back at the other end of the corridor.

It was empty. Loki had fled.

In the mind's eye of a tired old man, Odin went after his son. Before it was too late, and Odin could no longer follow.

In reality, Odin stared down the corridor for a moment, then turned back the way he came. He had to tell Frigga to deal with their youngest.

 

If he had made fewer mistakes, Odin wondered, would he still be staring at Loki's hunched form, his youngest glaring at him from behind the glass wall of his prison? Or could they have talked about the amphitere in his son's room, without Loki's biting (or self-loathing) words?

Odin was sure he knew the answer already.

Even if he had received the answer he wanted, to give the amphithere a new home where it would be safe (Midgard's seas, perhaps, since the mortals had explored very little of their oceans), the conversation with Loki had not gone as hoped. Though with the girl, Gunnhild, in the dungeons, mayhap it was for the best if Odin spoke to his son later.

And though he knew it was dangerous for the child to be in the dungeons (not mention how she slipped past the guards again), he could not help but dwell on the reason Loki gave for her presence. How she could look past Loki's bitter words and cold eyes, and see prince that he once was. Perhaps they needed more warriors like her. Ones that would look at a man in prison see what he used to be, and wish to help. Rather than see what he is, and prefer to lock him up and forget.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Frigga would see her son languishing in prison, and she wished she could scream at the guards to release him, beat against the glass holding him until it broke. But all she did was talk to her son. Loki did not speak with malice or spite towards her, as he did with his brother and father, but he did not speak to her as he used to. His voice always held a cold and distant edge, though he seemed please to have her company. Even as she did her duties as queen, she felt her mind wandering back to the prison cell and her son.

 

“He lied, and you did what!” Frigga screamed at her husband.

“I only told him-”

“To let me deal with him!” she hissed. She couldn't believe her husband. Did he take leave of his senses? “You told him that he wasn't important enough for your time, and sent him off to me. Even after he spun you a lie he thought would please you!” It was fortunate their privates rooms were sealed against eavesdroppers. Otherwise half the palace would have been able to hear their argument.

Odin sighed. “If told him I knew the truth, he would feel embarrassed. I did not wish to humiliate him, if he wanted to hide his weakness.”

“Think of how he will feel, when he learns you were too cowardly to face him and tell him the truth.” Frigga tried to ignore the hypocrisy in her words ( _again_ they hadn't told Loki of his parentage), focusing on matter at hand. “Only he will not see it as cowardice, but the shame you feel towards him!”

“I am not ashamed of him!”

“Then tell him that yourself!”

Odin snatched Gungnir from its stand and headed to the door. “He already knows.”

As she had that morning, Frigga blocked her husband's exit. “I know you are stubborn, Borson, but I never took you for a fool. But if you are afraid to confront your _own son_ , then I will go in your place.” She turned and grabbed the door's gold handle.

“Frigga, do not tell him the truth.” Odin warned, laying a gentle hand on her back. “It will only hurt him.”

Frigga stopped, looking over her shoulder to glare at her husband. “There have been too many lies in this family already. I will not add to them.” She shrugged off Odin's hand and left, taking care to slam the door shut behind her.

 

When she arrived at her weaving room, Loki was sitting on one of the stools, delicately running a finger along a half-finished tapestry. He looked up at her, then back down at the weaving. He waited until she took a seat across from before speaking. “Mother, I apologize for leaving so abruptly. I-”

“No, Loki, I understand.” Softly, she lay a hand against his chin and turned his face towards her, removing his glamour again as she did so. The sight of the cuts and bruises sent pang through her chest. “I know why you left. Your father told me what happened.”

“Ah.” Loki's eyes slid to the side. ”I'm sorry I lied, but-”

“No, not that.” Frigga grabbed one of her boy's hands. “He saw the real truth.”

Loki flinched back, eyes wide. “But how-” he gasped, then understanding lit in his eyes. “So that _was_ Munnin then.” He looked away, hands clenched and knuckles white. “If he knew, why didn't he tell me?” The plea was clear in his voice, along with something akin to fear.

Frigga scowled. “Your father...well, sometimes he can be downright foolish. And sometimes he doesn't know how to deal with you, when you act like nothing has happened.”

Loki blinked, looking back at her. His jaw was clenched and Frigga could see the shame and anger (but anger not directed at Odin) in his eyes. “You mean he did not wish to tell me how he really felt.” His voice rang with bitterness.

“No, Loki, not at all. He's worried for you, and disappointed you lied to him, but he loves you. He was simply concerned you would be hurt if he told you he knew the truth.” Frigga winced internally. Now she was using her husband's excuses.

“Now tell me,” she continued when Loki didn't respond, bringing a finger up to the bruise on his cheek and tapping into her magic to bring down the swelling. “why were those men angry at you?”

Loki studiously avoided her eyes. “Last night I knew they were going into one of the villages for...female companionship. So before they left I put something in their drinks that would interfere with their performance. In bed.”

“And why did you do that?” Frigga asked patiently. It would do no good to yell at him.

He rolled his eyes to the ceiling and bit out, “Because they heard Thor's retelling of our adventure in Svartálfaheimr, and decided that I had little to contribute to our groups' effectiveness.”

“They were mocking you, so you wanted to teach them a lesson,” Frigga surmised.

Loki finally looked straight at her, not quite hiding his worry. “Yes.”

“In that case,” Frigga sighed, “next time I suggest not getting caught.”

Loki's frowned. “What? But I-”

“You were hurt because they believed you pulled a trick on them, then you confirmed their suspicions with a taunt.” She brushed her thumb over a scrape on his forehead. “If they do not suspect you, then they have no reason to hurt you.”

Closing his eyes, Loki took a deep breath. “I know. But evading suspicion is difficult, if everyone knows you're a liar.” He looked at her again, and Frigga knew he would be carefully appraising her next words.

“Then misdirect them, or wait out your tricks a bit longer. And have Thor support you. I'm sure he would be happy to help.” Thor might be a terrible liar, but he would stand by his brother.

Loki stared at her, face unreadable, then glanced to the side. “I suppose...that is reasonable,” he sighed. They sat in silence for a few moments, Loki's flesh knitting together smoothly. Then Loki asked, “Why did you and Father ask me and Thor together for a meal? And why was one of Father's ravens watching me?”

When Frigga learned that Loki told both her and her husband two near-believable tales in the space of a few minutes, she wondered how her son could look them straight in the eye and lie. But he had only learned from the best, hadn't he? Putting on a soothing smile, she answered, “We have not been together as a family for quite some time. You're off on your own, or with Thor, and we wanted to have a meal like we used to.” A perfectly good lie, she hoped, one that had a ring of truth to even her own ears. She supposed it was true, in its own way. They had not spent much time together recently, and Frigga missed her sons' company. “And you know your father is always occupied with his duties as king.” Was that her not complaint to Odin earlier? Always too busy for Loki. Fighting to keep her smile from slipping, she continued, “But that does not mean he ignores you.”

Loki gave her another one of his inscrutable stares. “I see. Does that mean will have to share another meal soon, since this one ended earlier than anticipated?” There was a touch of something in his voice Frigga thought was hope.

She smiled, a genuine one this time. “Yes, we probably will.” She had hope too, that the next time the four of them were together, they would not separated by lies and plans gone awry. The next time they would sit down and Frigga and her husband would listen to both their sons talk. No more lies, from any of them. “Now, I think all your bruises are gone. If there anything else..”

“No, Mother, Thank-you. I'm fine now.” He matched her smile and smoothly rose to his feet. Giving her hand one last squeeze, he strode deftly between spinning wheels towards the door.

At the entrance he paused, and turned back to her, his brows drawn together in uncertainty. “If I asked Father about...today, would he give me the same advice?”

Frigga's lips thinned. “No.” She struggled for an answer. One that would help. “But even if he gave the wrong advice, he'd still want to help you.” It was a poor consolation, and they both knew it. Face going blank (a bad sign, it was always a bad sign when Loki refused to any show emotion), her son nodded and left.

Frigga could not help feeling the deep pit of shame in her stomach. She had come here to tell the truth, to console Loki, and she only given poor succour and told more falsehoods. _To protect him_ , as Odin would say.

Standing, she left the weaving room as well. She was too tense to weave today. Instead, she decided to go to her private training area. Practising with her short sword may serve to calm her down. Along the way, she heard a bustling down the corridors, then four little bodies rushed past her. Some of Lord Volstagg's children, in a hurry to Norns know where.

 

They never did end up having another private meal. Everyone was always too busy.

And now that she made time for Loki, there wasn't much pleasure to be had in the dungeons.

She heard that a child had gone to see him, again one of Lord Volstagg's. As much as it made her heart soar to know that Loki's family were not the only ones who wanted to see him (for a purpose other than to mock or jeer at him), she worried for the girl's safety. The dungeons were no place for a child.

(The dungeons were no place for _her_ child.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you catch my subtle political message that prisons should be used for rehabilitation and reintegration, rather than simply punishment? And Frigga is trying to help (and doing a better job than Odin), but Loki isn't giving her much to work with, hiding his feelings and asking loaded questions. Anyway, yes, this is the reason Loki was crying way back chapter 7. Part of my inspiration for this chapter came from this gif of a comic right [here](http://damnation-amoureuse.tumblr.com/post/48880832789/look-at-them-brother-they-may-taunt-and-tease%22). Or rather it was inspiration for a teeny little scene of this chapter and kind of spiralled out from there. And the other part of my inspiration, involving the sudden Odin!Feels, were brought about by the fic [To Rebuild A Bridge](http://archiveofourown.org/works/639321/chapters/1158807), which is amazing and makes me cry buckets. When I first thought of this scene, there were two versions of Odin confronting Loki in the hallway. The one where Odin actually tells Loki he knew about the lie ended in Loki being happy, so I chose the other one and left the happy ending in Odin's mind. We can't have Loki being an emotionally well-adjusted person, now can we?


	11. You're living in the past it's a new generation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hildy begins her warrior training. When Malekith's elves attack, she is too young to see any battle but her training continues fiercer than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slightly late update, I was a bit busy yesterday. Because this story was written before that Thor 2 Comic Con panel, this contains nothing from the rumours about the trailer they showed there, so don't worry about spoilers.

Kneeling before both the Queen and King of Asgard, Hildy joined in with the other children her age (mostly boys, but Hildy wasn't the only girl) beginning their training as they swore the warrior's oath. Technically, they wouldn't be expected to fight for another century or two at least, and even then it would only be in the reserve lines. But Hildy's voice rang out loud and clear, and out of the corner of her eye she could see Father's eyes shining with pride as he watched the initiation ceremony.

The day after she was caught in the dungeons the second time, her parents had surprised Hildy by telling her she'd been accepted for warrior training. In fact, both Mother and Father had looked so shocked themselves when they told her that they forgot to be angry (for a while). With her thoughts consumed by Jörmungandr, and possible ways to sneak out before the Allfather sent him to Midgard, her warrior training had been shoved to the farthest recesses of her mind. And once she considered it, she'd thought her transgressions should have swayed the King's decisions against her. Asgard couldn't have their warriors running off on their own, disobeying whatever rules they pleased. Even if their pursuits involved the King's son.

But the King had stood by his decision, no matter how much it puzzled Hildy. Her voice twinning with the other children's, Hildy felt her heart swell with joy. She could almost forget that Jörmungandr was gone. Or that Gudrun rarely smiled these days even while despondently practising her magic, and Hrolf and Gunnar spent more and more time staring morosely out of the window at the forest. Or the one time they had slipped past the guards stationed around their cavern, they had found nothing but dried blood and far too many Ás footprints.

She could _almost_ forget. But not completely. In the silent breaths between vows, Hildy made four additional oaths of her own before the throne of Asgard. They were muttered under her breath, too quiet for the boys next to her to hear, but no less meaningful for all their secrecy.

“I swear to remain loyal to Asgard's throne and to its people.”

_I swear to find Jörmungandr._

“I sweat to protect Asgard from those who would see it fall.”

_I swear to bring Jörmungandr home._

“I swear to defend Asgard's people with my life.”

_I swear to make Asgard safe for Jörmungandr and his kind._

“I swear to uphold Asgard's laws and justice in all of Yggdrasil and beyond.”

_I swear to bring to Jörmungandr his family. All five of them._

 

When the Malekith's elves attacked only a few months later, Hildy was still too young and inexperienced to help. She burned with the need to fight and defend her home, but she knew she wouldn't last long in battle against a fully trained elf. So along with the other novices, she was sent with the untrained men, women, and young children to a hostel in the Snöiga Mountains, and given orders to protect the others if need be (which she did admirable when a group of trolls made the poor decision to ambush their party).

By the time news of Asgard's triumph arrived, Hildy was on edge as she worried of her family's and kingdom's fate. The elves had been driven back, but not without losses. And not solely from Asgard, but from and Midgard as well. However, when she arrived back at the golden palace, she only had eyes for Father, Alaric, and Einar. Leading the way for her other siblings, Hildy threw herself into Father's arms, joined quickly by Gudrun and Flosi. As he recounted tales of the battle, reassuring them that his wounds were only scratches, Hildy couldn't have felt more safe.

But Asgard was more vulnerable than ever. The elves had attacked the heart of the palace and threatened the integrity of Yggdrasil itself. And, just as everyone had feared when Thor set him loose, Loki had escaped. No one had seen a trace of him since the battle.

Hildy's training became more difficult, the elder warriors pushing the their novices and forever using warnings of the attacks to keep them in line. They were threatened with frost giants, with elves. With Loki.

They were cautioned on what would happen if an unprepared soldier ever met one of those beings in combat, describing the vicious ways in which novices had been torn apart. Men impaled on Jotun's ice, blasted apart with the elves' energy projectiles, knifed in the back from one they thought was an ally.

If they were ever to see Loki again, they were told, they must stay away or risk falling prey to one of the trickster's plots. The former prince was not a friend and was not be to treated as such, they were warned (with an extra glare in Hildy's direction, as if they'd heard of her adventures in the dungeons).

But Hildy wouldn't let prejudice against her hold her back. Though the warriors her age spent part of their time in lessons and part of their time training, Hildy soon surpassed trainees a decade older than her. She worked harder in the ring than most of her classmates, and practised the more challenging moves in her free time until they were perfected. Not because she was afraid of the older warriors' tales. But because if she wished to defend Asgard, then she had to strong. And if she wished to change Asgard (for Jör, or any other like him), then she had to be respected.

Although she would take care not to meet an elf or Jotun any time soon.

And Loki...well, Hildy knew a secret. Loki was not heartless. He (probably) wouldn't hurt _her_. He might even aid her on her quest to find Jör. Eventually.

And if he needed convincing, she could always bring along Gudrun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My goodness, that took a while. Thank-you for reading and commenting and etc, and I hope you enjoyed it! Most of the second half of this chapter is a reference to [this comic](http://scans-daily.dreamwidth.org/2417475.html), and Google Translate tells me that snöiga means snowy in Swedish because I'm uncreative. The thing about Loki knifing people in the back was more a metaphorical bastardization of what either the warriors heard tangentially happened on Earth, or a metaphorical representation of what they _thought_ Loki did in the war against Malekith. Because I think Loki works better from the shadows and wouldn't do so well on the open battlefield, but I don't want to guess the plot of Thor 2. And I'm sorry about pushing progressive politics on you through Hildy's ideas about Jör, but children are the future and all that (re: the title of this chapter).

**Author's Note:**

> Hildy and the names of her siblings are all canonical names of Volstagg's kids (and I know in the recent JiM series, Volstagg's wife is called Gudrun, but in the old comics she was called Hildegund and one of her kids was Gudrun.) Hildy is around 10, Gunnar is 9, Hrolf is 8, and Gudrun is 6. Hildy is the only one with an actual personality from the comics, so for the rest I just made up their characters.


End file.
